The Slayer
by The 41st Maguanac
Summary: My dark and angsty vampire fic. Duo plays the Slayer, up against the forces of the night. Lord Yuy is out to get him... Part 13 finally up! There's trouble afoot with two feuding Vampires, and Duo is given a gift by a mysterious stranger...
1. A Feeling

The Slayer

The Slayer

By The 41st Magaunac

Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing, nor do I own Buffy the Vampire Slayer.

Note: This fic has nothing to do with Buffy. There are no characters from the show in this piece of fiction, I have merely borrowed a few ideas from the show, and that is all. So, don't expect to see the famed blonde leap out from behind a rock with a crossbow, okay?

The braided youth gazed indifferently of the sea of faces before him, his face expressionless, his eyes betraying nothing. Another town, another school, it was always the same. He didn't expect he'd be very long at this one either. He hated the way the jocks glared at him because he was a little skinny, he hated the way the so-called 'fashionable crowd' took in his Priest's collar and black clothes and dismissed him as a potential friend. He hated the way that every other member of the class seemed to be trying to put him into some kind of 'category'.

He hated it, but he didn't care enough to do anything about it. Duo Maxwell was like that.

He could hear the almost pitifully whiny voice of his teacher going on monotonously behind him, the mumbling of the students as they discussed him amongst themselves, saying his name as though churning it around in their mouths to see how it tasted, and judging him.

Duo Maxwell hated being judged. 

As far as he was concerned, God would judge them all in the end, and though he was convinced that he would go to Hell, at least he had the satisfaction of knowing that this lot would all go there with him.

"And I'm sure you'll make lots of new friends here, Mr. Maxwell. This is a very lively class…"

Duo Maxwell scowled.

Duo Maxwell didn't need friends. He had long since given up on this boring and pointless waste of time. He was never at a school long enough to need friends. Duo Maxwell was a 'problem child'.

Headmasters galore had said it, psychiatrists had said it, child psychologists had said it, a whole host of policemen and firemen had said it. Even his own mother at one time or another had admitted that he was a 'demon seed'. Trouble followed him around like flies to rotting flesh, and he enjoyed it. Yes, Duo Maxwell and Trouble were good friends.

"…You may take your seat there, Mr. Maxwell, and the class will begin."

Duo sauntered to his seat, slung his bag on to it, then sat down in his chair, emptying the bag of his books before dumping it on the floor with a loud thud. The teacher seemed oblivious to his attempt at irritating her, and went back to her writing on the blackboard.

//Well, this is boring as shit,// thought Duo as he looked around at the students around him. The jocks were messing about at the back and firing spitballs at some poor blonde kid who was desperately trying to get on with his work. The 'fashionable people' were pretending to study while glancing through beauty magazines, and everyone else was either sleeping or working.

Duo sat considering the 101 possible methods he could use to annoy both his teacher and his classmates, but he had promised his mother to try and get through one day without causing any trouble. He didn't mean to cause trouble. It just kind of… happened.

Holding himself back from the chaos he wanted to cause, Duo idly kicked at his desk leg and watched the seconds of the lesson tick by until finally the bell chimed, signalling that first period was over. He swept all his books back into his bag and was on the way to the door when a spitball hit him square in the back of his head. He spun around, glaring at the perpetrator, a bright red-headed boy, dressed in a letterman jacket, displaying to all the world that he was a) a jock and b) a prat.

"What the Hell's your problem?" yelled Duo with a sneer. The teacher, who was still at her desk, looked up sharply at him, but he didn't notice.

"Hey there, girly locks, wanna be my date for the dance?" mocked the young man. His comment was followed with a loud laugh emanating from his 'posse'.

"If you're looking for a date with my fist, you're going the right way about it," growled Duo, dropping his bag to the floor and raising his fists. The young man seemed unperturbed by this action, and continued his laughing, even going so far as to fire another spit ball at Duo, which he avoided with lightning-quick reflexes.

There was only one young man who saw the teacher rise to her feet, and it wasn't Duo. Easily provoked into a fight, Duo swung back his fist ready for the charge into battle, when he was caught by the shoulder by the fuming teacher, who spun him roughly around.

"Mr. Maxwell! We will have no such behaviour in the classroom!"

Duo scowled, looking as though he was about to beat the woman senseless before returning to do the same to the jocks who dared mock him. Instead, he felt a presence behind him, and was surprised to find himself facing the skinny and rather victimised blonde boy from earlier. He had a bright smile, and a pair of pale blue eyes, which seemed to give the message: "Pick on me! I'll never fight back!" Duo couldn't help but feel instantly sorry for him.

"I do apologise, Miss Campino, I'm afraid it's my own fault that Duo doesn't know all the rules about fighting in the school, but if you'll just give me a moment, I can enlighten him straight away!"

Duo stared at him for a moment. He certainly didn't look familiar… "Have we met?" he asked impatiently.

"Oh Duo, you joker!" said the young blonde, pulling him away from the slightly less fuming teacher and towards the door. "We met earlier in the cafeteria, remember?" The youth gave Duo a hard stare.

Duo rolled his eyes, realising that it may be easier to play along for the time being. "Erm, yes. Now I remember. You're… umm…"

"My name's Quatre, you silly thing!" said the blonde with a huge grin. He turned to the teacher, as though sharing some kind of in-joke. "He's really forgetful you see. Would forget his own head if it wasn't screwed on!" He grinned at the teacher, who seemed to accept this explanation.

"Just don't let it happen again, okay Mr. Winner?" said Miss Campino, smiling at Quatre and lightly ruffling his hair.

By now, the jocks had disappeared into the crowded hallways of Sunnyvale High School, which, Quatre noted, was now exactly what Duo was trying to do.

"Hey, hey, wait up!" he called after the long braided teen, shifting his heavy book bag to the other shoulder, trying to keep Duo's head in view above the mass of faces between them. Duo didn't stop, or even slow down. Quatre only caught up with him when Duo stopped to get his lunch out of his locker.

When Duo closed the door to his locker, he looked almost surprised to see Quatre still standing there. "Can I help you?"

"Don't you want to know why I helped you back there?"

Duo was confronted with the overwhelming urge to pick Quatre up, sit him on his lap and tell him a bedtime story. He had that kind of face. The kind of look shared by kicked puppies everywhere. "Not especially," he replied sourly, before continuing his trek down the hallway, with Quatre trotting at his heels.

"My name's Quatre. Quatre Raberba Winner. I know we weren't formerly introduced before, but I was hoping…"

Duo spun on him and cut him off. "Okay, Quatre Quatre Raberba Winner, here's the deal. Yes, it was nice of you to help me back in the classroom, and don't think me ungrateful, but believe me, it's not the first time, nor the last time something like that has or will happen. I don't need any kind of bodyguard, particularly not one who puts bookworms to shame, or enjoys a little 'chit chat' with teachers. I am not a very nice person, and I have no intention of hanging around with you, or becoming your friend. Is that clear?"

Quatre blinked for a moment, then continued, "But don't you want to know why I helped you?"

Duo shook his head despairingly. "Didn't you just hear what I said? Get lost!"

"I will get lost if you really want me to, but there's something I think you should know first," Quatre grinned, building up the ceremony in the words he was about to say. "I have… a _feeling_ about you…" Quatre paused, smiling from ear to ear as Duo looked at him blankly.

"Excuse me?"

"I have a _feeling_ about you! You're _specia_l! I think you may be the one I've been looking for! That _we've_ been looking for!"

A horrible feeling dawned on Duo as he tried to wrap his head around what was being said to him. "NO! I am NOT gay, and NO, I don't want to be your date for the dance!!"

Quatre shook his head, sending his platinum blonde bangs flying about. "No, no, no! I mean you're the _one_! The one who's going to save us from the demons, and the vampires, and the werewolves! _You're the one_!"

"You are delusional," said Duo patiently, and rested his hand on the blonde's shoulder. "Do me a favour and leave me alone. I don't need weirdoes like you following me around, I already have enough problems as it is. There is no government plot, I am in no way special. There's an end to it. Can I go and eat my lunch now?"

Quatre clung desperately to Duo's arm. "But you can't be! I have a _feeling_ about you, just like I did with the last one! You've heard about the demons and vampire rumours, haven't you?"

"… Erm, yes."

"Well, you're the one! The one who's going to put an end to all that! You'll save the people from almost certain death!"

"Oh yes, obviously," said Duo sarcastically, "and I was blessed with supernatural powers too, don't you know."

The blonde's jaw dropped, "You _too_? Wow, that's amazing! It's great to meet someone else who feels the same way!" Quatre hugged Duo's arm, and Duo pushed him roughly away.

"Get off me, you freak!"

"We've waited long enough for another one like you, and you've finally arrived! you must have been sent to us by some divine power, and now it is your duty to send these bad guys back where they came from! What do you say?"

"I say…" said Duo thoughtfully, "That you are full of shit. And you'd better stay away from me, if you know what's good for you, or I might be forced to give you a wedgy. Okay?" With these final parting words of wisdom, Duo spun on his heel and marched off to eat his dinner in peace. Maybe the library would do… at least there was no chance of being irritated by jocks in there…

Behind him, the unperturbed blonde clutched a thick textbook to his chest and grinned. "I've found him!" he said happily to himself. "I've finally found him! I've found the slayer!"

Quatre would have revelled in his joy a little longer had a senior jock not come past at this moment and attached a 'Kick Me' sign to his back without him noticing. He smiled to himself, and walked off, totally oblivious, not only to the sign on his back, but to a pair of bright green eyes which were watching him from a nearby doorway.

To Be Continued.

Please review! Feedback is very important, as this is the first time I have attempted a fic like this! And remember, I'm still collecting submissions for my website!


	2. Duo's Test

The Slayer

Disclaimer: See Previous.

Notes: No, you're right. Heero isn't in it yet, but he will be! Heero has a very special role, and we'll be seeing a whole lot more of him later.

Warnings: Eventual yaoi, pairings: 1x2 and 3x4. Possible lemon. I'm thinking about it.

The Slayer

By The 41st Magaunac

Duo was delighted to discover that the library was practically deserted. It was an old and dusty place with row upon row of thick volumes, most of which were bound in leather, and a number of which were falling to pieces. It wasn't like any library Duo had ever seen, most of which had telephones and Internet access. No, this place was like something out of a fairytale. He half expected some old wizard in a blue hat to come out from one of the corners.

The thing that was most noticeable was a large section of the library dedicated to the occult. This was hardly surprising, considering that Sunnyvale was a bit of a cosmic G-spot for paranormal activity. It didn't seem to have bothered Duo's mother though, who was more interested in how cheap the houses were, without questioning _why_ the prices were so low. She had insisted on dragging Duo here for a change of scenery after his father died.

However, if it was death Mrs. Maxwell was trying to avoid, she hadn't come to the right place. Over the past few months, around half a dozen people had disappeared in mysterious circumstances, men and women alike. A few had even been students at the High School. Some parents believed there to be 'evil at work' and had turned to the church.

Not Duo though. He didn't believe in God. He believed in Shinigami. Shinigami had come for his father, and sooner or later, he would come for him too.

Despite the emptiness of the library, there were surprisingly few places to sit. Duo eventually chose a seat opposite a passive looking black haired youth, who had his nose buried in a book. His coal black hair was slicked back into a tight ponytail, and he raised his onyx eyes only to glance at Duo for a moment before continuing his study.

Duo pulled a large sandwich out of his little brown paper bag and took a large mouthful of it, glancing down at the odds and ends that had been left in and around the library. There was a plethora of pencils on the desks and scattered on the floor, left by students no doubt, some obscure art works were on the walls, some of them looking like the students work. Many of these were pictures of werewolves and vampires, slicked in blood and tearing at corpses… If Duo had had a weaker stomach, he might have felt queasy.

//This whole place is obsessed with vampires!// he thought to himself as he took another large bite of his sandwich. He looked down at the stack of books the dark haired youth was reading. More books on vampires, some of them incredibly detailed with diagrams and dates and all sorts. Most were so old that the pages were falling out.

When Duo glanced up again, he felt a pair of eyes resting on him, and looked up to see that the black eyes, which had only glanced at him before, were now staring at him. Not wide-eyed staring, not like Quatre. This was more… intense somehow.

To try and break the tension, Duo coughed, and asked, "What is it? Do you wanna bite?" he offered his sandwich to the black haired boy.

"No thank you," the youth responded rather coldly. He didn't let up his gaze though. By now, Duo was beginning to feel very uncomfortable. He could just tell someone like Quatre to get lost, but this guy was… scary.

Duo pointed at the stack of books, "That's a whole lot of reading you've got to do there."

The youth merely nodded.

"I was thinking about getting a book myself. Do you know where I can find the librarian?"

"I am the librarian," he replied, sliding the book he was looking at to one side and selecting another off the top of the pile.

"Really?" asked Duo, truly surprised. "Is it run by the students then?"

The black haired boy said nothing, and gave Duo another long, hard stare. Duo played with the end of his braid, getting ready to get up and leave if necessary. This was just really creeping him out now. "Look, would you stop staring at me?"

"I'm just wondering if there's been some kind of mistake," said the youth cryptically. "I mean, it can't be you. There must be some kind of… mix-up. I was expecting someone… bigger."

Before Duo could respond, there was a flurry of activity at the door, and Quatre hurried in, nearly dropping his books all over the floor as he did so. He ran over to where Duo was sitting with the librarian, breathless and excited.

"Wufei! Wufei, I found him!"

"So have I," replied Wufei, glancing across the table at Duo, who was beginning to look even more uncomfortable.

"Wow! You found each other! That's really great. Duo, this is Wufei, Wufei this is Duo. He's the slayer!"

"I refuse to believe that someone so small and weak could possibly be the slayer. He's meant to rescue our town from Evil. The last slayer was almost twice as tall."

"Yes, but he's the one! I know you can feel it too. I knew the moment he walked into the classroom this morning! He's been sent to us!"

"Wait, wait, wait! You are you calling weak?" Duo growled at Wufei and stood up. "You two are both crazy. I'm beginning to wonder if there is anyone sane left in this school. Can't you leave me alone? I don't have time to lose my mind at the moment. I have stuff to do!" It seemed though that the other two were not listening to a word Duo was saying. They were too busy arguing.

"I refuse to believe it!"

"It's him! You know it too, even if you won't admit it Wufei!"

"Then we shall have to test him."

"Test? But Wufei, if anything goes wrong…"

"You'd better hope you're not wrong then, hadn't you Quatre?" Quatre felt those cold black eyes glare at him coldly. "If you've changed your mind, and think you were wrong, he can go now."

"Excuse me? I will not be told what to do by a couple of…"

"No. I'm certain of it. If this isn't the slayer, I can never believe my senses again."

Wufei nodded and set off for the little office room at the side of the library. Duo, who was looking decidedly pissed off because he was being ignored, stuffed the last of his sandwich into his mouth. "If you'll excuse me, I have things to do," he said icily, keen to be away from whatever weird 'test' it was that Quatre and Wufei had in store.

"Wait, you must stay!" said Quatre, grabbing on to Duo's arm to keep him from leaving.

"Let me go, you freak!"

"Quatre…"

That was the only warning they got. Quatre released Duo instantly. Duo's accurate hearing picked up the twang of something behind him, and he spun around, only to be confronted by half a metre of silver fashioned into a crossbow bolt flying at him at untold speed. Every muscle in his body tensed and in a split second he launched himself out of the way of the speeding bolt, which missed him by a fraction of a centimetre.

The crossbow bolt hit the wooden library door, and stuck there, vibrating softly with the force which had propelled it. Duo stood there, looking utterly mortified and petrified at the same time, taking deep breaths, his body quivering with the sudden jolt of panic.

"You're… fucking crazy," he whispered, and for the first time in his life, Duo Maxwell ran for his life out of the library door.

Quatre grinned triumphantly. "Didn't I say it was him? My senses are never wrong."

"He's so young… and looks so weak. He must be trained Quatre. We need to catch him and convince him of what he is before it's too late. We only have until Friday to get him ready for his first battle."

"I'll go right away," replied Quatre quickly as he laid down his book on magick for a moment so he could adjust his bag. Wufei glared at it.

"You should not carry that around school with you. People don't take kindly to your kind."

"I don't think anyone knows," replied Quatre. "I'd better hurry after Duo." Wufei walked up behind Quatre as he left and peeled the 'Kick Me' notice off his back and showed it to him.

"Be more careful, Winner," said Wufei, as he went back to his desk to continue reading.

Quatre nodded one last time before heading out of the library, his magick book lying forgotten on the desk.

Wufei was so immersed in his reading, that it took him a moment to notice as a tall shadow loomed over him, and he found himself looking up into a pair of intense green eyes, and a shock of red-brown hair.

"Can I help you?" he asked.

"I'm interested in this book," said the youth, referring to abandoned magick book on the desk.

"I thought Quatre wanted this…" said Wufei, half to himself as he picked up the book. "Well, the book does belong to the school… so be careful with it. I want it back in one piece. Due back on Monday, okay?"

The quiet green-eyed boy merely nodded before gathering the book into his arms and heading out of the library door. Wufei raised an eyebrow as he noticed the youth lightly caress and smell the book. "There's something really odd about him… if only I could put my finger on it."

Out in the corridor, the tall youth turned a couple of pages in the book, his eyes greedily taking in line after line of scrawled writing. "Quatre…" he said to himself, playing with the word, enjoying the way it sounded on his lips. "Qua…tre…"

***

To Be Continued.

Please review! Feedback is really important for this fic!


	3. Friend or Foe?

The Slayer

Disclaimer: See Previous.

Warnings: Some swearing on Duo's part.

The Slayer

By The 41st Magaunac

"NO!"

"But Duo!"

"Stay away from me! Take your werewolves, and your vampires, and your freaky magick books and get the Hell away from me, you freak of nature!" Duo was amazed that the little blonde guy could run so fast. When he had realised Quatre was still in pursuit, he had launched into a sprint half way down the high street.

"Duo, you've got to listen to me! We need you! You're too important to lose!" Quatre could run remarkably fast for someone laden down with books. Quatre had met enough vampires and demons in the past to know when it was a good idea to run. "You've got to train!"

"Leave me alone!" Duo hurdled another fence and set off across the park, Quatre still in hot pursuit, a flurry of papers falling from his bag. "Get someone else to be your slayer!"

"There is no one else!" yelled Quatre, who was beginning to gain on Duo, despite his desperate flight. "You're our only hope! Duo!"

"Not if you were the last freaky little witch in the Universe!" Duo yelled over his shoulder. He hurdled another fence, seeing his house coming up just at the top of the hill. //Thank God!// he thought as he put on another burst of speed.

"It's not gonna end here Duo!" yelled Quatre, noticing Duo shoot ahead again. "You can't get away that easily! Sooner or later, you're gonna have to listen to me!"

Duo leapt over the gate to his house, pulling the keys out of his pocket as he did so. Quatre skidded to a halt outside the gate as Duo jammed the key into the door, spinning it, and pulling himself through the doorway, slamming the door shut behind him.

He collapsed breathless into a heap on the floor, gasping for oxygen and shaking from the exertion. "Fucking freaks…" he whispered to himself before pulling himself unsteadily to his feet.

A friendly, if rather careworn, face appeared from the kitchen doorway. "Duo?"

Duo picked up his bag and walked into the kitchen, following his mother. "Hi mom, I'm home."

Laura Maxwell eyed her son critically before straightening his collar. "Are you all right? You look tired… did you run all the way home?"

Duo grinned, still a little breathless. "I felt like a little jog, mom. It's nothing to worry about."

"I hope you haven't got yourself in trouble already," said Laura with a sigh as she went back to finish the dishes she had been washing. "We've only been here a week. I don't want to have a repeat of what happened before."

Duo rolled his eyes and flopped into a chair at the table. "No, mom. I was fine. I even managed to avoid a fight earlier." Duo thought back to the way Quatre had saved him from a fight with the jocks. It was the first time he had ever gotten away unscathed.

Quatre. Yes, the bastard who was busy trying to ruin his life. Had he ever wanted a normal life anyway? But a slayer… the idea was preposterous. Someone who was trained to kill vampires and demons and werewolves? What on Earth would his mother say? On the other hand, looking at the odds, it surely wasn't going to be a problem. On one side he had sense and reason. This told him that Wufei and Quatre were either mad, delusional, or stupid. Or all three. The other side was the idea that they were right. That he was a kind of 'slayer'. He was Shinigami. He had the right to decide who lived.

"Are you all right love? I've never seen such a severe expression on your face." Duo looked up to see that his mother was standing over him, looking concerned.

"It's nothing, mom. I've just had a lot on my mind, what with moving here, and dad… and everything. It's a lot to think about."

"Well, remember what your father would have said. We have to get on with our lives. He wouldn't want us moping around."

"I'm not, mom. I'm fine. I'm fine." Laura Maxwell ruffled her son's hair affectionately. "I'm going to make some dinner now. How about I make you some cheeseburgers? Like the old days?"

"Sounds great, mom. I'm gonna go… and make a start on my homework or something."

Laura nodded as her son got up from the table and left. The moment he was out of sight, she frowned.

//Duo doing his homework? Now I know something's wrong…//

***

Quatre sighed as he tried to order his papers, sitting outside Duo's house in the half-light on evening. He had been so close! Duo was fast, he had to admit. He had thought that if he waited out here long enough, Duo might realise he wasn't going to give up. However, he had been out there an hour, and there was still no sign.

//Guess I'd better go home,// he thought to himself with disappointment. He would have to find Duo again tomorrow. Maybe he could get Wufei to help him…

It was a long walk back to his house. He had no doubt that there'd probably be questions asked when he got back home. His sister would be worrying herself to distraction as always. He wasn't supposed to be out after dark. No one was.

The street lamps were just coming on as he reached the high street again, casting bright pools of white light on to the pavement. However, with the light came the shadows. Every alley looked to him like somewhere a creature could hide. Quatre couldn't help but feel vulnerable to be out here alone. He knew he should have called Iraya to pick him up from Duo's, but he had no assurance Duo would even have let him in the house.

However, there was one presence on the street looking out for Quatre. He darted from shadow to shadow, his eyes never for a moment leaving Quatre's blonde head. If there were anything out there in the dark, he'd find it. Nothing would be allowed to hurt Quatre. Nothing.

Quatre spun around, his paranoia getting the better of him as he stood directly under one of the lamps, his hand wrapping around the cross he wore about his neck. His senses were going into overdrive. He could feel a presence. Someone was following him! He was sure of it. As sure as he'd been of Duo being the slayer.

"Duo?" he called into the darkness. "Wufei, is that you?"

No one replied.

Quatre swallowed hard, beginning to continue his walk down the street. Once again he felt it, he could feel eyes staring at him. He could feel someone following him.

He quickened his pace, his hands gripped tightly about his book bag in case he needed it as a weapon. Whatever was following him also quickened it's pace in turn. It wasn't letting up at all. It was right there, as though it were right beside him.

He broke into a run. He knew it was a bad idea, as it would only make him more noticeable to anyone following him, but he knew it was too late to worry about that now. If he didn't hurry, he may not get another chance.

The pair of bright green eyes never let up. He kept his pace with Quatre easily. He could travel much faster than this. However, he was becoming aware that his pursuit of Quatre was doing more to scare the young blonde than protect him.

//But I don't want to scare him!// he thought desperately. //What if he gets himself into even more trouble?// The green-eyed youth picked up his pace, beginning to gain on Quatre.

Quatre was now running full tilt down the street, his bag flying out behind him, breathing quickly, his muscles aching. The cool evening air whipped and stung his cheeks, but he was too scared to stop. It was gaining on him. He could hear the feet approaching faster and faster. Convinced it was a vampire, he dove his hand into his pocket, wrapping it around the vile of Holy Water he always kept there in case of emergencies.

This was definitely an emergency.

He became aware that he was no longer heading towards his home. His panic had led him astray, and down a series of alleyways in an attempt to lose whoever, or whatever was following him. It was so close now that he could feel it's hot breath on the back of his neck, the fast breathing, and something that sounded like… paws?

It pounced.

With a cry of fear, Quatre felt a hand grab his shoulder tightly, and he span 180 degrees, flinging the contents of his little glass vile into the face of the shadowy figure he now faced. A surprisingly human-sounding shout emerged from it's mouth, but Quatre didn't dare to remain there to find out what it was. He felt the grip loosen on his shoulder and pulled himself free, charging for the end of the alleyway.

He didn't even get one metre closer.

Something travelling at immense speed flew into Quatre's back, sending him falling forwards, the floor coming up swiftly to meet him. An arm gripped him about the waist, slightly easing the impact of the cobbles and twisting him in midair, so the ground hit him in the back instead of the face. A pair of hands gripped each of his wrists, bringing them above his head, and his legs were locked together with disconcerting precision.

Whatever it was, it had rendered Quatre completely immobile in less than a second.

It doesn't take a person of even limited intelligence very long to know when they are completely overpowered. Quatre struggled only briefly before making this realisation. He pressed his chin into his shirt, keeping his neck hidden as much as possible. A thousand possible incantations rose to his lips, but he knew they were useless to him without his concentration and, more importantly, his hands.

"Get off me! I'm warning you!" he yelled, praying that whatever it was that had caught him was incredibly stupid, "I know magic! I'll hex you, I swear!" Quatre quietly hoped that his words sounded a lot more forceful than he felt. "Micygant, Hiporat, Luyuui…"

His incantation was interrupted by a calm voice from over his head. For the first time, Quatre opened his eyes, looking up through a fringe of long cascading reddish locks that were barely an inch from his nose. "You can't cast without your hands…" said the voice. "It's all right… I will not hurt you…"

"Who are you?" whispered Quatre, trying to see through the hair to the face hidden beneath. "Do… I know you?"

"No," the voice replied quickly, moving himself off Quatre, as though he were suddenly afraid of their contact. He dropped back on to all fours, stooping to collect Quatre's bag from where he had dropped it a few feet back down the alleyway, before he stood up. Quatre was finally able to get a good look at him.

He was a lot taller than Quatre had expected. He was dressed in a very old and long coat, which stretched all the way down to his ankles. He wore a pair of fingerless gloves and a thick and rather grubby looking scarf around his neck. The young man was staring at the floor, unwilling to look Quatre in the eye.

"Why did you follow me?" asked Quatre, moving to try and get a better look at his attacker's face. However, wherever he moved, the boy would come up with some way of obscuring his face from Quatre's vision with his long bangs.

"It's dangerous to be out this late," he said, not really answering the question. "I was worried you might get into trouble."

"So, you saw me, and just started to follow me?"

"I wanted to make sure you got home safely."

"How did you know that I was going home?"

The youth fell into awkward silence. He didn't want to tell Quatre that he knew where his home was. That he lived with his sister. That he played the violin. That he practised magick. Telling him all this would reveal the months that he had spent following the young blonde around, sometimes from tree-to-tree like a common thug. He just wanted to be near him. It didn't matter if he never touched him, he just wanted to be near him.

So how had all of this happened? Why was he now standing in some filthy alleyway, having just floored the object of his desire?

"I just knew," he said quietly.

Quatre accepted his bag and slung it over his shoulder. He knew that he was a little naïve, always hoping to find good in everyone he met, but Quatre also knew that if this guy was going to kill or mug him, he would have already done so.

"I have to go," said Quatre, checking his watch. "It's late, my sister will be worried sick.

The youth looked at him desperately. "Not alone," he said quickly. "I'll go with you."

"But, how will you get back?"

"I'll be fine. Trust me."

Although Quatre was hardly used to trusting people who rugby tackled him in alleyways, Quatre was inclined to trust this one. He was picking up some strange vibes from this guy, but he could be certain that he was neither vampire nor demon. "Well, if you insist," he said, as he allowed the taller youth to take his arm and steer him out of the alleyway.

//He's so nervous,// thought Quatre, glancing up at the pair of green eyes above him. The youth was looking all around the street. One couldn't help but get the impression that if a pin were to drop, this guy would hear it. What amazed Quatre further was that without any directions, he was able to find Quatre's house on his own. He walked with Quatre as far as the front gate, then backed away several paces.

"Will you be all right?" asked the youth uncertainly.

"Yes, you've done more than enough. Are you sure you'll be safe getting back home?"

"I will be fine. I can take care of myself," the mysterious green-eyed young man replied.

"My goodness, we haven't even been formerly introduced. "My name's Quatre Raberba Winner. What's yours?"

//I know your name. If only you knew all the things I see when I look at you…// thought the young man. He grimaced and lowered his head. Quatre had never seen anyone look so small, considering their height.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"I… I have no name," replied the tall youth, turning away from Quatre.

//I don't even deserve to be in his presence… I have no name, I am a nobody. He is everybody.//

"But…" started Quatre, but the youth was already walking away. 

"Take care, Quatre," he said softly, a warm tear streaking his cheek. //I have to get away from here. Why did I come here tonight? What was I thinking? As if he could ever be involved with… someone like me. With what I am…//

"Goodbye," said Quatre, half to himself. "We'll meet again, stranger. We'll meet again, I just know it."

***

To Be Continued.


	4. Scenario for Bloodshed

The Slayer

Disclaimer: See previous.

Warnings: Some swearing and lots of blood. Nothing explicit though, however if you don't like gory scenes, approach with caution.

Rating: PG-13 – R.

The Slayer

By The 41st Magaunac

Zechs Merquise was, by nature, a patient man. He waited patiently when subjects were brought before him. He waited patiently while they pleaded for their lives. He waited patiently as they were tortured, and he waited patiently as their remains were scrubbed off his floor.

However, Zechs Merquise had been waiting 6 millennia to return to the Earth, which can push even the most patient of men. And just because Zechs was a patient man, it didn't mean he was a kind one.

He adjusted his knee high boots, then stood and walked to the metallic door of his quarters. "DOROTHY!!" he bellowed, his voice reverberating all throughout the tunnels. He growled quietly and stalked back into the room, adjusting his long blonde hair as he did so.

There was a scuffled of feet and a tall blonde girl with dark scissor-like eyebrows hurried through the door. As always, there was a look of slight fear on her face, but Zechs respected this in his subjects. It showed they were intelligent enough to fear him.

"Yes sire?" she asked, quickly bowing.

"I have heard reports, Dorothy," said Zechs softly, his tone almost mirroring that of a lion playing with his food. "I've heard they've found him. I can sense him. A new one, Dorothy."

"Fresh meat, sire," replied Dorothy, her bright blue eyes flashing with malice. "He will not last long. He has had no training. It will only be a matter of time."

Zechs moved faster than the eye, bringing his arm back and then backhanding Dorothy sharply across the face. She made no sign as he did so. No one was to show weakness in front of His Excellency. "Never underestimate your enemy," spat Zechs, punctuating each word with his very breath. "Nothing must get in the way of the Harvest, and I mean _nothing_. I am not interested in your excuses. I want him brought to me immediately, and I will feast upon his worthless soul until I am satisfied. Do you understand me?"

"Yes sire," Dorothy replied without skipping a beat, "I will send someone out immediately…"

"Not just anyone," interrupted Zechs. "I won't take any chances. We'll send the best we have to dispose of this little problem. If anything gets in the way of the Harvest, it means I must wait another 6 millennia, and that means I might have to kill and eat my servants to pass the time." Zechs' voice was smooth as silk, but dripped with malice. Anyone who listened to it couldn't help but quiver as something untold inside them knew that this force was not one to be reckoned with.

"The best, sire," agreed Dorothy, beginning to back away.

"Did I give you permission to leave my presence?" sneered Zechs. Dorothy froze on the spot; her eyes locked on to Zechs' pale blue ones. "Send Heero," he eventually finished. "You may go."

"Heero?!" Dorothy gasped. As a vampire, there was so little that could scare her, but Heero Yuy? He was… something else.

Zechs spun on his heel. "Do you have a _problem_ with that? If so, I could always get someone else to issue my orders. No one, Miss Dorothy, is irreplaceable."

Dorothy shook her head. "No sire, I will follow your orders to the letter. I will inform Heero of your decision at once!" She bowed once again, and quickly vacated Zechs' chambers.

"Nothing shall get in my way," growled Zechs. "Certainly not a little boy with long hair." He turned to glare at the human he had been torturing, baring his teeth. "Fortunately for you, I have lost my appetite."

***

The nameless green-eyed youth trekked home mournfully, his face lowered as always, not wanting to attract attention from anyone. It was unusual for anyone to out that late, let alone an 18 year-old young man.

//Quatre…// he thought. //I only wish to be near you. I did not wish to scare you. I would never hurt you, Quatre, I won't let anyone else hurt you either.//

The youth pulled the magick book which he had taken from the library earlier out of his pocket. It wasn't a large volume, but it was bound tightly in black leather with a few words in silver on the front, which were possibly in Latin, though he couldn't be sure. He pulled the little string tie that held the book shut and opened it, running his eyes across the inked pages again.

He could understand none of the words, let alone pronounce them, and he marvelled quietly to himself about how Quatre could read and comprehend all this. He glanced around him on the street to check that no one was close by, and then gently lowered his nose, taking in the scent of each of the pages. He could smell every place on the page where Quatre's delicate hand had touched. So much, he could almost taste it. The scent came in colours in the back of his mind, a gentle lilac that he always associated with Quatre. Somehow, his mind always connected scents with colours.

This thought only prompted him to become more melancholy. //Why must I live this way? Why do I have to be who I am? Why can't I be normal?//

"Why can't I be NORMAL??!" he yelled to the street at large. In a flare of anger, he kicked a nearby trashcan, which flew several metres down the nearby alley. Sometimes he forgot his own strength.

He sighed deeply and pocketed the little book again, after inhaling the scent of the little book one last time, as if it wasn't already imprinted enough on his memory.

Then something hit him. Not something physical, something _else_. Something he craved so deeply that sometimes he could forget that he craved it at all. His bright eyes darted about, the red colour of the scent clouding his mind.

Where was it _coming_ from?

"H-h-hello? Is s-someone there?" A small voice came from just inside the alleyway in the shadows. The green-eyed youth paused and peered into the darkness, his dark eyes picking up a figure there. He raised his hand to his nose, the scent that was almost unnoticeable to humans already beginning to take over his head. "Who's there?" he called, against his better judgement.

There was movement from the shadows and a middle-aged man crept forward from them. He was nursing a horrific stab wound in his side. There were no signs to say how long he had been sitting in the shadows. "I've been attacked!" he said, his entire body shaking with fear. "Some thugs came, and they took my wallet. I tried… I tried to hold out against them, but there were too many, and one had a knife… I'm in a lot of pain… Please, I need you to help me get to a phone booth. I need to call the police and an ambulance…"

The man trailed off, seeing the way that the young emerald-eyed youth kept drawing away from him as he approached, his hand to his mouth and nose.

"Can you help me?" the man insisted.

The tall lad was torn between helping the man… and fleeing. Not for his sake, for the sake of this poor fool who wanted his help now. He couldn't breathe. He didn't dare to inhale. He couldn't see for the crimson mist which now swamped him. He was suffocated by it. Blinded.

//I can stop myself…// he said to himself. //I must stop myself. This is a test. I will overcome.//

Blood. Hot, rich, thick and bitter, sweet and running through our fingers… 

//I will not submit. I will not submit.//

Oh, but you want to, don't you? 

The middle-aged man jumped as he saw the youth almost collapse to his knees, as though he had somehow lost his spine. He crumpled, then did his best to pull himself up straight.

"Hurry," was his only word, as he ushered the old man along the alleyway to where he knew a phone booth was situated. The man complained most of the way, but the youth wasn't listening. He knew the man was in pain, but that was nothing to what would happen if he didn't get away soon.

He hurried into the phone booth and dialled 911, before hastily handing the receiver to the man. He stumbled back a few feet leaning against the wall, pressing his body so hard against it that he was causing himself pain. He didn't care though. Anything was better than what he was feeling now.

_He is weak. You are strong. The strong must take from the weak, it is the way of life._

//I refuse to take life… I mustn't. I don't care what I am, I will not break down and accept it. I will fight it. I am greater than my cravings, I am stronger. I will overcome…//

But you don't want to though, do you? You desire it, you want it to drip across your hands, the taste of it running rampant in your mouth. It is your nature, do not fight it.

//I will not hear you!//

You will hear me. Just let go. Let go, and submit. It is easier than the path you choose… 

The middle-aged man continued his talk on the phone, not even turning when the youth released a choked sob, crumpling against the wall.

Just let go. Let it take you.

//I can't. I won't, I won't, I won't, it HURTS!!//

Then let go.

//Please don't.//

Let go.

//Please…//

Let go.

He could feel it. The energy building up inside him. It was incredible, fuelled by his lust for the sweet crimson liquid still seeping from the man's wound and down his side. He let out another cry, but this wasn't a sob. It was an enraged scream which echoed up around the houses. He flung his head back, screaming for all his was worth, his voice threatening to tear his own throat out.

The man in the phone booth spun around in surprise.

"Oh dear God… No!! NO!" he yelled as he fumbled and dropped the receiver, the cool metallic voice of someone on the other line still speaking to him.

A pair of massive green eyes settled on him, one still obscured by a flash of auburn-brown hair. The man screamed in fear as the monster leapt on him, pearly white fangs flashing in the half-light created by the lamps. He felt the teeth settle for a moment over his shoulder. The there was the tearing of flesh, an ocean of crimson, and finally… nothing.

***

//What have I done?// the voice echoed in the youth's head as he sat in the corner of the phone booth, naked and trembling. The remains of his victim were about his feet, carnage incomparable. He had tried to fight it.

And he had failed.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry…" he repeated over and over like a mantra, quivering, his forehead resting against his knees.

He glanced down at the corpse in front of him, regret flowing down his cheeks in his tears. He was soaked in blood. His skin was drowning it in, but the lust was gone now. He could still taste the metallic bitterness in his mouth, and he wanted to be sick. He couldn't live with this.

He wondered quietly who the man was and leant forward to go through the pockets of the man's coat. Eventually, he came across a wallet. He flicked through it, painfully bypassing the pictures of the man with his wife and children.

Finally, he found a library card. He skimmed his eyes over the back of it. It had expired that very day. It read:

Sunnyvale Library

Trowa Barton

Date of Expiry: September 12th '01.

The youth couldn't help but wonder over the irony of it all. The man truly had expired on the 12th of September. It was sickening. He hated to think he had played any part in fate.

Although he knew it was wrong to steal, he wrapped himself in the man's thick coat. He was still surrounded by blood, but now he had taken his fill, the cravings had ceased. It didn't stop the sickness though. He just wanted to empty his entire body.

He picked what remained of the man up off the floor of the phone booth, and hung the receiver back on the hook, which had long since gone dead. It wasn't far to the riverside, and he was thankful for it. Gently, he tossed the body into the water, watching it until it sank beneath the calm waves, pulled down by the current.

"Rest in peace, Trowa Barton," he murmured, glancing down at the library card that was still in his hand. "Trowa Barton…" A thought like one which had never crossed his mind before suddenly came to light. He… needed a name. And here was one, right before him. An identity. He had never had an identity before.

The immorality of it all chilled him the bone, yet the more he thought about it, the more it made sense. He would have a name. He would be Trowa Barton. Then maybe Quatre…

//Quatre…//

Cold fear swept over the newly named Trowa Barton, and he started in a run for home. he had to get there. He had to close himself within those walls. He needed to think. He needed to wash the bloodstains off him…

He dived around a corner, flying into a full out sprint down the alleyway leading to his front door, moving many times faster than any human could run. He spun the key in the lock of the apartment building and practically flew up the stairs, not stopping until he was safely inside his home.

"Quatre…" he mumbled. He hurried into the bathroom, spinning the shower taps on.

//What am I thinking? You're such an IDIOT! You're more of a danger to him protecting him than you are not protecting him! I'm such a fucking idiot… what was I thinking… what was I thinking?//

Without even removing his clothes, Trowa pulled himself under the boiling hot stream of water, scrubbing at his clothes and any exposed skin until it was raw and red.

"I can never be clean…" he whispered. "I can never be like Quatre. Why…? Why don't these stains wash out?" He scratched at the skin, his nails leaving thick red lines down his arms, legs and face. "My soul is stained with the blood of my victims… why was I born this way? Father? I know you're gone… but why? Why did you never tell me you were a werewolf?"

A sob escaped his throat as he buried his head in his arms, purging his body of the tears he had waited so long to cry. 

He sat this way until the water ran cold.

***

To Be Continued.

Please R & R! Like I said, feedback is v. important!


	5. Heero comes to centre stage

The Slayer

Disclaimer: See Previous

The Slayer

By The 41st Magaunac

"All right, take it away."

Superintendent Khushrenada took a step back and allowed the paramedics to zip up the body bag. This was the worst kind of case. When Treize had joined the Police Force, he hadn't expected to be up at all hours of the night, investigating things that most people only see in their nightmares.

He glanced down at the clipboard in front of him. On the whole, there wasn't a lot to say, considering that the corpse had been so mutilated that it was impossible to tell who he had been. There was no ID on him, and some of his clothes had been taken quite apparently, not that he'd need them now.

Treize had seen some pretty gory things in his short time as the head of Sunnyvale's 'Supernatural event' division, but nothing quite like this. He had to admit, vampires may have been evil blood sucking bastards, but at least they were neat. Two puncture wounds on the neck, and that was that.

He compared this to the list of injuries the paramedics had handed him. Deep claw marks to the arms, legs and face. There was barely anything left to make note on. The guy had had his heart gouged from his chest for God's sake. What kind of sick asshole would do something like that?

Police Constable Une walked up to his side, giving a small, neat salute. "We're all done here, Superintendent. All that remains is to take the body to the hospital for post mortem."

"What do you think really happened here, Une?" asked Treize, as he absentmindedly tapped his clipboard with his pen. "What on Earth could have done this kind of damage? This is not the work of any vampire or demon I've ever seen."

Police Constable Une looked down into the depths of the river from which the body had been removed. "Do you want my honest opinion sir? I've never seen anything like it, but I have a feeling I may know what could have done this kind of damage."

"Speak freely," confirmed Treize, adjusting his uniform slightly as he listened.

"I think it was a werewolf sir. Or something of that species."

"What makes you say that?"

"Aside from the huge teeth and claw marks, the entire thing just reeks of them. There were some unidentified hairs found on the body. The operator to whom the victim was talking before his demise said that she heard growling and roaring, sounds which are commonly connected with werewolf sightings."

"We haven't had a werewolf in Sunnyvale for years," replied Treize thoughtfully. "Not since we dealt with Bloom all those years ago."

"Bloom was a madman, sir," stated Une. "He deserved everything he got."

"If only he had lasted longer, we could have run some more tests," commented Treize. "I can't help but wonder if this new threat could be somehow related to Bloom. It's definitely worth investigation. I want to find this… creature. He will be brought to justice, and finally we will get to finish the tests we started over 10 years ago."

Treize turned his back on PC Une, starting to walk for his car.

"Where are you going, sir?"

"I'm going to the library," he replied. "I hear that Sunnyvale library has a large section on the supernatural, and I'm very interested to find out about werewolves. If I can find out his weakness, it will be the key to his undoing Une. You wait and see. We'll put this bastard back in the cage he belongs in."

***

"Garlic, crucifixes, sunlight, water… umm…"

"Duo!"

"My head is spinning!" Duo half lay across the library desk, chewing on the end of his pencil. "How can I be expected to remember all this stuff?"

"You'll remember it, or you'll die," stated Wufei unsympathetically. "We've been doing this for hours, and we'll keep doing it until you get it set in that thick, braided head of yours."

"Man, I would never have agreed to this if I knew it was going to be this much work!" whined Duo, tapping his pencil on the desk now. Quatre sighed and glanced at his watch.

"It's only 12.30," he stated. "Not even time for lunch yet! I'm bunking my history lesson so I can be here to help you, so don't let me down, Duo! I know you remember all this. Now, please, one more time."

"I'm going to go mental before I remember all this!" stated Duo. "Garlic, crucifixes, sunlight, water…"

"What kind of water?"

"Fine, fine, HOLY water then. Sheesh."

"That's very important," said Quatre. "There was a time when just any water could hurt a vampire, but these days it must always be blessed, even if you do it yourself. The more religious the blesser, the more powerful the holy water will be."

"So, if I got the Pope to bless it, I could wipe out half of vampire kind?"

"Well… you _could_ put it like that."

"Guys, this is all very well, but how is this supposed to help me protect the town against vampires? What am I going to do? Throw a book at them or something? Dazzle them with my knowledge?"

"Right now you don't have enough knowledge to power a 10 watt light-bulb," said Wufei sourly. "You will learn the fighting skills _after_ you have learnt the knowledge contained in these books. It was the same with the Slayer before you. And the one before him."

"But it's so boring!"

Wufei rose to his feet and growled. "Why, whenever I talk to you, do I feel like I am wasting my time?! The moves are nothing without the knowledge! you would have no idea how to face a vampire without having background on it first! you need to know their weaknesses!"

"Woah, woah, okay Wu-man, fine. I'll hit the books… right after I hit the cafeteria…"

"_Now_. I will teach you the moves when I think you are ready. For now, you will continue reading."

Quatre nodded. "All right, moving on. The important thing to note about all vampires is that they are extremely obsessive compulsive. Therefore, if forced into a confined space with one…"

Duo rolled his eyes, and flopped back over the desk.

***

"Quaint."

Heero Yuy was a man of few words, and this was the only one he used to describe Sunnyvale High School. In fact, it was the word he used to describe pretty much the whole world. It was all very insignificant to a man of his strength and stature. Heero was not afraid of anything.

He ran a hand through his messy dark brown hair, his Prussian blue eyes scanning the other students as they walked past him. He was late, he knew. He had missed pretty much the whole day of school, but it was of little consequence. He wasn't going to sit around and entertain these mortals.

He had seen them walking past him, in their groups and gangs. His lean appearance gave the impression that he was weaker than in fact he was, and he smirked at the jocks as they ridiculed him on his simple clothes, his tight jeans and green tank top. He could have fun making them pay later.

Duo Maxwell. His name, that was all he knew. The Slayer would be walking these hallways just like he was, perhaps he was even standing behind him at that very moment. How perverse. Out of paranoia, he turned and glanced behind him, but the only people there were a group of first year girls.

It was nearly time to get to final registration. He would be introduced to the class then. From that moment, it would only be a matter of time until he found him. And only a matter of seconds for him to drain his body of life giving fluid.

He smiled and took a step forward, for the first time noticing that the lace of one of his sneakers was undone. He leant down quickly, for a moment panicking over whether to untie the other one, or retie this one. He hated living in this human world. Why couldn't he have just bought laceless shoes?

With a bit of effort and a snarl, Heero tied up his undone lace, trying to forget about them as he headed down the corridor towards his new classroom. And his victim.

***

"Oh by the way, Wufei?"

Wufei glanced up at Quatre from his book. "You'd better go. You'll be late for class." Duo was already waiting by the door, idly fiddling with his collar.

"I just wanted to ask you about a book I left here the other day. You know, the one bound in the black leather?"

"The small one?"

Quatre nodded.

"Well, that book does belong to the library. Someone else had an interest in it, so I let him take it out. He's got to have it back by Monday, so it'll be back then at the latest."

Quatre frowned. "You should be more careful who you lend out books like that to."

"This is my library, and I'll make the decisions," Wufei replied icily. "Besides, the words would mean nothing to anyone without a gift like yours. He was just a youth like us. I don't think I'd seen him before, so I don't think he was a student. He was tall. Green eyes."

The blonde had been about to leave when he spun back to face Wufei again. "Green eyes? And reddish-brown hair, covering one eye?"

"You know him?"

"I think… I think I met him."

Wufei shrugged. "You're going to be late. Small world Quatre, that's all it is. You think too much of everything."

"Maybe," said Quatre slowly. "Maybe."

***

Finally, the end of the day! Duo had been waiting for this for hours. He was practically dying of starvation, something that he blamed entirely on his new 'friends'. Particularly Wufei. Man, that guy had a bad attitude!

Miss Campino finished calling the register, then said, "I'm sorry to keep you, class, but I have one last announcement to make before you leave." Everyone in the class visibly sagged.

"Due to circumstances beyond his control, our new student wasn't able to get into school until late this afternoon, though of course he will be punctual in the future," she said pointedly at the youth beside her who, up until this point, Duo hadn't noticed.

//Another new student?// thought Quatre. //Already?//

"Class, I'd like you all to welcome our new student. Would you care to introduce yourself?"

The new guy took a step forward, emerging from the shadows of the corner in which, somehow, he had remained unnoticed. He ran his eyes across the faces before him, his features expressionless, a man without emotion.

"My name is Heero Yuy," he said in a calm, cool voice. "It's a pleasure."

***

To Be Continued.

Please R&R!


	6. The Last Slayer

Disclaimer: I don't own it, don't sue me.  
  
Author's Note: Goodness, the things I do for you. I'm posting this from school, so it hope it posts okay. Busy busy!  
  
The Slayer  
By The 41st Magaunac  
  
  
"Ohmmmmmm…"  
  
"For the last time, silence!"  
  
"But it helps me concentrate!"  
  
"How can making ridiculous noises help you attain a higher level of being??"  
  
"Uhh…"  
  
"I rest my case."  
  
Duo finally opened his eyes and glared at Wufei, who was perched atop his office desk in the lotus position, his hands atop his knees, his face a picture of serenity. "Well, all the guys on TV do it!"  
  
Wufei snapped his eyes open and scowled. "There's your problem, right there. You think that being a Slayer is like being one of these phoney actors off the TV. Get your head out of the fantasy world, Maxwell."  
  
"This is pointless," said Duo, for not the first time that day. "So far I have filled my brain with a load of nonsense, most of which can't even be proven, and now I am sitting on the floor of a library office learning how to be silent. Oh yes, very useful. What should I say? Excuse me, Mr. Vampire Man, I'm going to sit me down here for a minute and focus my energies, finding a higher state of being. Give me a tick, will you?"  
  
Wufei abruptly turned around and unfolded his legs, sliding off his desk. "Go," was all he said.  
  
"Excuse me?"  
  
"I said go, as in leave. I knew training you would be hard, but there isn't even any point unless you start to believe in what I'm telling you. If Quatre were here right now, he'd be telling me to give you another chance to prove yourself. Quatre isn't here. I think having a bad Slayer is worse than not having one at all. A Slayer should be proud of what he is and whom he protects, skilled in more than just brute strength, Maxwell, but you just don't get it. If you continue this way, you will die in your first battle, and I would be responsible. I will not have that kind of guilt resting on my shoulders. Farewell, Maxwell."  
  
Duo blinked, unable to fully understand what had just been said to him. "Just… go? No catches? No reverse psychology?"  
  
"Just leave!" Wufei sat down in his chair with a thump and turned angrily to his computer terminal, beginning to type furiously.  
  
//He's given up on me?// Duo remained there for a moment longer before he nodded, spun on his heel, and marched out of the office. //Nothing changes. Everyone always gives up on Duo Maxwell sooner or later. Everyone.//  
  
Wufei lifted his eyes to watch him as he left, the door slamming behind him. //It's for the best,// he insisted to himself. //He'd be sure to die if he ever got into a real battle. I won't waste any more lives than is necessary… not again. It won't be like last time. Not again.//  
  
***  
Heero Yuy liked to work at night. He had long gotten past that feeble stage where he was damaged by things like sunlight and water. Garlic was hardly even a problem anymore. He had excelled past his 'brothers' and 'sisters' as Zechs so neatly put it, but Heero wasn't part of anyone's family. He flew solo.  
  
He secured a pair of fingerless gloves to his hands, and pulled a long black coat tightly around his shoulders. His black boots weren't shiny, but it wasn't a problem. The matt texture only made him less noticeable in the dark.  
  
"Preparing for a mission, Yuy?"  
  
A cold feminine voice came from behind Heero and he turned around slowly. A tall golden haired girl stood behind him, leaning against the doorway to his room and watching him intently through ocean blue eyes. "Relena," he growled.  
  
"Oh don't worry, I'm not here to pester you," she said, her voice as smooth as a sharpened knife cutting silk, "Zechs sent me."  
  
"I don't have time to listen to girls whose only ambition in life is to do their brother's dirty work," sneered Heero, turning back away from her, straightening his coat again.  
  
"Zechs wants a report, Heero," Relena replied coldly. "It's been two days, and the Harvest is drawing ever closer. He wants the Slayer's head on a plate, and to be honest I think my brother's going to be disappointed again, don't you?"  
  
Not rising to the bait, Heero flipped up the collar of his coat without another word. Relena strolled over to him, wrapping her hands around his arm, leaning her head on his shoulder. "If you would just do what my brother says, there wouldn't be a problem," she purred, "believe me, you don't want to displease him. You wouldn't want another incident like the one with Odin, would you?"  
  
Heero stopped dead, and turned his head to glare at Relena. "Let go of my arm, or I swear I will tear both your arms from your body. Zechs, or no Zechs."  
  
Relena scowled and released his arm, stalking back towards the door. "I'm sending two tonight to take care of the little problem, seeing as you are so incapable," stated Relena icily. "Be ready to explain to Zechs in the morning why it wasn't you who brought him the Slayer's head on a plate!"  
  
She slammed the door behind her, the sound echoing around the metallic room as Heero finished adjusting his outfit. Vampires had impeccable taste in clothes. Everything had to be perfect.  
  
Slowly a smile crept over Heero's face. "We'll see," he murmured. "Send out your soldiers, Miss Relena, it will do no good. He's a tough one this one, I can feel it. I've never failed a mission yet, and I don't intend to start now."  
  
***  
"Hey Duo! What's your hurry?"  
  
Duo sighed and turned around as the blonde rushed up to him as he stormed out the door of the library, his book bag slung roughly over one shoulder.  
  
"Nothing," he replied shortly. "I'm going home."  
  
"But it was all going so well!" Quatre enthused, "Why are you leaving?"  
  
"It's not gonna work out, Quatre," said Duo, as he kept up his fast strolling pace, making Quatre jog to keep up. The sun was already setting on the horizon, casting long ambiguous shadows around the feet of the two young men.  
  
"What happened?"  
  
Duo finally stopped abruptly on a street corner and ran a hand irritably through his bangs. "I don't have what it takes, Quatre. I never had what it takes. I said right from the beginning that this was all a load of crap, and I was right. Wufei won't teach me anymore, and to be honest, I have better things to do with my time."  
  
"Wufei thinks he's doing it for the best!" Duo hmphed, but Quatre continued in spite, "Really! Wufei's been doing all this longer than I have! If he's refusing to teach you, it's only because he's worried you'll get hurt!"  
  
"You already admitted that I'm not the first Quatre, and that the last Slayer died horribly. I accepted those risks! I don't understand how someone who has seen Slayers come and go can be so uptight about a new one!"  
  
"Because he blames himself!"  
  
There was a long, awkward pause, during which Duo shook his head. "I don't… understand."  
  
Quatre stared fixedly at a drain cover and sighed. Well, it was out now, there was no more to be done about it. "Wufei blames himself for the death of the last Slayer. It wasn't his fault. There was nothing he could have done, but I can't stop him blaming himself. He carries the guilt of it around like an anvil."  
  
"What really happened Quatre?" Duo looked at the blonde, who wouldn't look him directly in the eye, but looked up into the darkening sky, his eyes damp with unshed tears.  
  
"He was a friend of mine," Quatre explained. "I don't think he was truly ready… when they came. We fought some battles, and he fought with great courage and strength… but they got him in the end."  
  
"But how was Wufei responsible?"  
  
"Wufei was his trainer. Wufei taught him all the fighting skills he knew, but it wasn't enough. They out classed him completely, Duo. More intelligent, faster, stronger… there was nothing he could do. Wufei was the last person to speak to him before he died. Before he… he…" Quatre wiped a couple of rogue tears off his cheek. "It was too late. There was nothing he could do."  
  
Duo was at a loss for words. Quatre used his scarf to dry his cheeks and continued, "I didn't know him well, but he was my friend. He didn't deserve to lose his soul. No one should have to suffer that."  
  
"You said something before about him having his soul devoured… is that true?"  
  
Quatre nodded his head, "Yes. It's a fate far worse than death. You can never truly be put to rest. In a way… it was lucky that his body was so broken from the last fight. The body is only a shell for the soul. Without the soul… his body would have withered and died anyway."  
  
"But what has all this got to do with me?"  
  
"Nothing directly," Quatre replied, "But Wufei believes that his methods are not strong enough to defeat the vampires and demons anymore. He can make you stronger, but not invincible. He'd never admit it, but he's afraid of losing another one. He's seen three Slayers come and go, I've only seen one."  
  
"But there's still something I don't understand," said Duo as he started walking again, "If the last Slayer was killed in battle, how come the town isn't overrun by vampires now?"  
  
"It would be," said Quatre, scuffing his trainers as he walked, "But there was an overthrow in the underworld. The leader of the vampires, a man - if that's what you could call him - by the name of Odin Lowe. He was the one who devoured the soul of the last Slayer. He was incredibly powerful."  
  
"So what happened to him?"  
  
"Just because someone is powerful, it doesn't mean they're invincible. I already told you that. A darker Lord, who we don't know much about, overthrew him. He's been festering underground now since the death of the Slayer, getting stronger. In theory, it will be up to you to stop him before it's too late."  
  
"Just one guy?"  
  
"Oh no," Quatre shook his head, "He has many loyal followers. No one he's ever caught has survived long enough to tell us what he looks like or how powerful he is, but if he overthrew Odin, he must have been extremely powerful. Some sightings have been made of other vampires though. Some male, some female. We've heard tell of one who only strikes in the night, who is feared above almost all others. Generally, vampires are blond, but not this one."  
  
"Who is he?" asked Duo curiously.  
  
"He was the protégé of Odin Lowe, his right hand man and finest soldier. However, there was great fight between them. They hated each other. From what we can make out, it may well have been him who aided their current leader in the overthrow of Odin."  
  
"What does he look like?"  
  
"The legend goes; eyes like midnight, liquid sapphire, skin as white as snow. Hair of the darkest auburn. Able to catch and kill anything."  
  
"Well, that all sounds pretty bizarre," commented Duo, whose mind had instead drifted back to the new guy in their class that day. He was so mysterious! Now, his eyes were like liquid sapphire, he had to admit. //Oh Lord, what am I on?// he thought to himself, //I don't want to give the jocks anything else to tease me about.//  
  
"Stop, Duo…" Quatre said suddenly, glancing around nervously. Duo did so.  
  
"What is it?"  
  
"Something… I can sense it."  
  
"Oh, not again…"  
  
"I'm serious Duo!" Quatre turned to face him, "We need to get away from here. We're not ready to take these people on Duo. They're too strong for us."  
  
There was the screech of a cat, and the clatter as an empty Coke can was kicked across the paving stones. The pair spun around to see two darkened figures emerging from the shadows.  
  
"They're here, Duo…"  
  
***  
"Excuse me? Is anyone there?"  
  
Wufei glanced up irritably from his book as a figure tapped on the door of his office. "The library's closed," he yelled back.  
  
"I need to find someone!" the voice insisted. Wufei rolled his eyes and growled to himself, his mood not getting any lighter from this interruption. "Very well, come in. But I am very busy."  
  
Wufei slammed his book shut and watched as the tall, auburn headed boy from a few days previously entered his office. He still held the little black leather bound book in one hand, as though it were some precious treasure, and he looked very nervous and worried.  
  
"What can I do for you?" asked Wufei shortly.  
  
//Where is he? Why isn't he here?// "I need to find someone," the young green-eyed man insisted.  
  
"Well, get on with it," said Wufei, as he turned to his computer terminal.  
  
//Why can't I pick up his scent? There's something too strong in the air… what is that?// "I believe he goes by the name of Quatre. He's blonde. He has beautiful blue eyes…"  
  
Wufei cocked an eyebrow.  
  
//Where is he? I always know when he's going to leave! Why did he leave early today, why can't I find him?// "I need to find him… it's kind of urgent."  
  
Wufei scowled and unhelpfully pointed at the book in the youth's hand. "I never marked you down for having that," stated Wufei. "Do you have a library card?"  
  
//What?!// "Well, yes, but I need to find…"  
  
"Can I see it, please?"  
  
//Is he trying to stall me?// "It's expired…" He pulled the card out of his pocket and passed it across the desk to Wufei. Wufei skimmed over it and tapped a few keys on the database. He then dug into a drawer, taking what seemed to be an eternity, and pulled out a new card, writing on it quickly in black biro, copying the numbers and name from the old one.  
  
"There you go Mr… Barton. Please be careful with that book. We value all our volumes very highly." Wufei then opened his book again, and started reading, falling silent.  
  
//God damn it! Quatre might be in danger!!// "Excuse me, but you didn't answer my question!"  
  
"I beg your pardon?"  
  
//Fuck you!!// "Where is Quatre? Do you know?" Trowa asked, looking more and more desperate.  
  
There was another brief pause, and Wufei finally stated, "I have no idea who you're talking about. Sorry."  
  
In a split second, Wufei suddenly found himself pulled over the front of his desk, and looking into a pair of very, very angry emerald green eyes.  
  
"Tell me where he is," Trowa growled, punctuating each of the words carefully. "Or I will break every bone in your body one by one until you tell me."  
  
Wufei was completely dumbstruck and unable to move. He waved his legs ineffectually, choking against the pressure on his neck. His attacker's fingernails were so sharp, he could have sworn they were claws… "He left early…" Wufei spluttered. "He went home!"  
  
Trowa dropped Wufei unceremoniously on to the desk, and quickly pocketed his little book and his new library card. "I'm sorry… for hurting you," was all he managed to say. he could sense panic in the air, fear… they were about… those damn bloodsuckers. He could feel it. He could smell them.  
  
He backed up and took a flying leap, landing on Wufei's desk and throwing himself out of the office window. His feet pounded once on the window ledge and he pounced outwards like a cat, hitting the grassy hill outside the window, and sprinting off into the rapidly approaching night.  
  
Wufei ran to the window and watched him go, like a jaguar moving across the horizon. He was suddenly filled with fear. //Oh God, Quatre!// he thought, //No! I won't lose another one. Not like this. I'll find that… thing and stop it before it gets to Quatre…//  
  
Wufei pulled open his desk drawer and pulled out his katana. He fastened it quickly to the belt of his white trousers, and ran for the door. However, just as his hand was about to alight on the door handle, it was turned, and he ran full force into a tall, sturdy man who now blocked his path.  
  
"Are you all right?" asked a smooth concerned voice.  
  
Wufei shook the shock out of his head and leapt to his feet. "Get out of my way!" he yelled. "There's someone I have to help!"  
  
However, a hand was laid on his shoulder, a surprisingly strong one that impeded his progress through the door. "Are you the librarian?" asked the tall man again, pulling a little black wallet out of his pocket and flashing an important looking badge.  
  
Wufei scowled at the light brown haired man, who ushered him back into the office and closed the door behind him. "My name is Superintendent Treize Khushrenada of the Sunnyvale police department. I was looking for a book. I was wondering if you could help me?"  
  
***  
To Be Continued. 


	7. Start Running

Disclaimer: Me no own. You no sue.  
  
Author's Note: Ooh, for anyone who's interested, I flunked my history exam by doing the wrong question! now I have to do retakes in January! Isn't life great?  
  
On with the story!  
  
  
The Slayer  
By The 41st Magaunac  
  
  
"Well, well Nichol, what do you suppose we have here?" The taller of the two men circled Duo and Quatre threateningly, as if purveying a snack in a salad bar.  
  
"Hmm, sure looks like a couple of trespassers to me," stated the second of the two. He remained standing where he was, grinning cruelly, running his tongue over his long incisors.  
  
"This isn't your city!" spoke up Duo, pushing Quatre behind him, and glaring defiantly at their attackers, "We have as much right to be here as anyone!"  
  
Duo would have felt a lot stronger at that moment if the two vampires hadn't merely laughed at his attempt of defence. "Hey Mueller, I think we've got a live one here!" the one known as Nichol darted to another patch of shadows, confusing their victims. "Whaddaya say we teach them some manners?"  
  
"Don't come any closer. I'm warning you!" yelled Duo, hoping his words sounded a lot braver than he felt. They didn't.  
  
//So this is it?// thought Duo. //After all that stuff I learnt and those days I spent in the library with Wufei, it all comes down to this?// He felt Quatre quiver beside him a little with fear. He would have a hard enough time keeping himself alive, let alone Quatre too.  
  
"Come on then, I dare you!" yelled Duo, trying to get the vampires to focus all their attention on him instead of Quatre. "I'm the Slayer, and I sure as Hell ain't going down without a fight, so bring it on!"  
  
"With pleasure." Mueller grinned evilly and pounced forward, going straight for Quatre's throat. With agility that surprised even him, Duo stuck his leg out and tripped Mueller over. He landed heavily on the paving, but was on his feet again in a split second. "So help me, you're gonna regret doing that," he growled, flying at Duo, strong heavy hands outstretched.  
  
In the mean time, Quatre had his own problem. He stood facing Nichol, knowing that he'd be dead the moment he turned his back on him. Slowly the words of an incantation became to rise to his lips as he stepped backwards, backing away as the vampire approached him.  
  
"Tirium… resiida… morthem…" he worked his lips steadily around the vowels and consonants of the words, only hoping he had enough time to finish the spell. "Lumodus!!" he finished, holding his hands in the air, focussing his energy towards the vampire. There was a sudden blinding flash of light and Nichol threw his head back, screaming in rage, covering his face with his clawed hands.  
  
The burst of energy caught Duo of guard. He managed to get a heavy punch into Mueller's stomach before the blonde grabbed him, pinning him against the wall, grinding his face into the brickwork. Duo tasted a little blood on his lip, but was unable to even move his arm to wipe it away.  
  
"His excellency will be thankful to us that we saved him the trouble," whispered Mueller into Duo's ear. "There's hardly a snack here…"  
  
"Duo!" Quatre tried to make a break for Duo, words already coming to his lips like waterfalls as he considered the most powerful incantations he knew. However, Nichol had predicted his move, and though his face was burnt from the spell, he only had to reach out and grab Quatre roughly by the arm to prevent his interference.  
  
Duo felt hot breath on his neck, and the unmistakable press of sharp incisors on his throat…  
  
***  
//Oh God, don't let me be too late, don't let me be too late!// Trowa pounded his way down alleyway after alleyway. He only wished his senses could be more exact, but the stench of the vampires covered all other trails of the people he was looking for. Where was Quatre? Why hadn't he been there to protect him?  
  
Riddled with guilt, Trowa sped around another corner, his anger fuelling him as he ran faster and faster. He had to get there soon, he just had to. Quatre's life, and therefore also his own, depended on it.  
  
***  
"What do you want to know about werewolves?" Wufei snapped, seating himself quickly and irritably at his computer terminal as he began to raid the occult database.  
  
"What we're trying to find, Mr. Chang," said Treize, "is a merciless killer. "As a member of the police department's occult division, it is my job to try and bring this… creature to justice."  
  
"You know nothing about justice," stated Wufei coldly. "You have done little or nothing to prevent the continuing deaths of people in this city, and whoever this victim was, he was just another in a long lines of deaths that it was your job to prevent. Don't talk to me about justice, Mr. Khushrenada."  
  
"In any case," Treize replied somewhat icily. "I wish to find it. It will prove most useful in the Government's study of supernatural beings."  
  
"Like Bloom?"  
  
Treize glared at Wufei, who didn't look up from the computer screen. "Bloom was a mistake. He was a serial killing maniac who took the lives of 10 people, possibly even more that we are not aware of. If this… man… creature, whatever, spawned another like him…" Treize growled, "It is important that it is contained as soon as possible, before more lives are needlessly wasted."  
  
There was a satisfying bleep, and the screen was suddenly alight with a list of names and books all relating to werewolves and their habits. It was a good library, Wufei Chang was a very thorough librarian. No stone was left unturned.  
  
He quickly strolled out of his office and into the heavily shelved room, going straight to where he knew the most useful information would be. Wufei practically slept in his library.  
  
"'Creatures of the Moon,'" read Wufei off the cover. "This will have the most accurate information."  
  
"'Creatures of the Moon'?" Treize repeated, somewhat dubious.  
  
"It just has to be accurate, you didn't say anything about the title being pretty," said Wufei patronisingly as he passed the book to Treize. "Out of all the occult creatures, werewolves are probably some of the more interesting. In the past, they were not developed enough to be able to hold any kind of normal dialogue. They killed during the full moon, and that was that. In human form, many were hermits."  
  
Treize listened intently.  
  
"However, in the modern world, they have changed somewhat. Some are capable to changing their form at will, even if it isn't a full moon. They have incredible senses of smell, to the point where they can track a man for miles and miles. Seeing as you consider them so 'animalistic' Mr. Khushrenada, think of them as highly trained police dogs. Most still live alone, and will transform by the light of the full moon whether they like it or not. They are very territorial, and enjoy their privacy. Now can I go?"  
  
"One more question, if you will," said Treize slowly, smiling at the way his indecision seemed to be making the dark haired young man before him even angrier. "How would someone go about catching one?"  
  
"I'd wish them good luck, and start digging their grave," said Wufei with a nasty little smile. "Werewolves are incredibly fierce and dangerous. Bigger than a full-grown man, easily able to gouge out any of his organs with a flick of its claws. The only reason people do not fear a werewolf as much as a vampire is because they strike so rarely. Only someone with a real obsession," said Wufei cocking an eyebrow, "would want to catch a werewolf."  
  
"Nevertheless, for the good of the city and the safety of its citizens, I request that you inform me how I might catch one," insisted Treize, folding his arms and making it clear to Wufei that he definitely wasn't leaving until he had an answer.  
  
"The only way, theoretically speaking of course, would be to get some kind of bait, lure the werewolf out of hiding, and then heavily sedate it," said Wufei. "There's no other way. You can't just stand in the street and yell for one to come kill you. Believe it or not, werewolves are not natural born killers. They're recluses."  
  
"What kind of bait?" asked Treize thoughtfully.  
  
Wufei sighed and rolled his eyes to show his ever-growing impatience. "Werewolves are incredibly obsessive over things. It's a territorial thing. They react very badly to someone even touching something, or someone, which they consider to be theirs or under their protection. The best bait therefore would be to take something they loved dearly, and make them come and get it. OKAY?"  
  
Treize nodded and smiled, pocketing the book he had been given. "Thank you, Mr. Chang. That is very… insightful."  
  
"Now if you'll excuse me, I have other places to be," said Wufei as he ran back to the office to grab his katana. He ran out of the doors of the library and down the steps, and leapt on to his motorcycle. He gunned the engine, and flew off down the street. He didn't know exactly where he was heading. He just knew that he'd know when he got there.  
  
Treize walked casually back to the police car he had came in and climbed into the passenger side. "Follow him," he said simply to PC Une, who was sitting in the driver's side. With a small smile, the pair dimmed their headlights and set off through the night after Wufei's rapidly departing back.  
  
***  
//No! It's too soon!// thought Duo as he felt the sharp teeth press all the more sharply into his neck. Just as he was about to surrender himself to the pain, he felt the weight suddenly flung off him, and the clatter of trashcans behind him. He spun around quickly, fists raised, ready to attack anything that flew at him, but instead found himself faced with the back of a young man, not a lot taller than himself.  
  
Mueller growled and pulled himself out of the heap of dented rubbish cans, and stalked over to face the man now standing between him and Duo.  
  
"Who the hell do you think you are?" he growled, showing off his long sharp teeth as though wielding a blade.  
  
In an instant, the stranger flung out an arm and grabbed Mueller by the neck, lifting him into the air. The blonde dangled pathetically, trying to claw the cast iron grip from his neck, but found it was to no avail.  
  
Finally, the stranger spoke. "You are no longer needed here. I will finish this. Get out of my sight."  
  
It was amazing the profound affect that these words had on Mueller. He was no longer powerful and undefeated, he looked small and afraid like any normal human being. The figure dropped him in a crumpled heap on the floor, from which he slowly pulled himself to his feet.  
  
"I am sorry, Lord," he replied. "I did not realise this was your business." He backed away a couple of steps.  
  
"Indeed Lord Yuy, it was our mistake," commented Nichol, who had temporarily released Quatre, who was gasping for breath from his struggle.  
  
Finally, Heero turned to face Duo, his dark brown hair falling carelessly across one dark blue eye. He looked Duo up and down with marked disdain, and after a moment of thought, finally growled, "Run."  
  
Duo continued to stare at him uncomprehendingly.  
  
"I said, 'run' boy. I enjoy the chase. There is no sport without challenge. Now, run." Heero cracked a small and ambiguous smile which chilled Duo to the core.  
  
"But Quatre…"  
  
"Go Duo," said Quatre softly. "It's okay. Save your life, you're too important."  
  
"Quatre, don't be a fool! I'm not going anywhere without you!"  
  
"You have my guarantee that the little blonde one will not be harmed," said Heero. "If you remain here any longer, I swear I will kill him right this moment."  
  
Scowling with unconcealed hatred, Duo turned on his heel and sprinted down the alleyway, and out the other side into the street. Heero smiled again, adjusting his coat habitually before preparing to head after him. After all, he'd need a head start.  
  
"What do you want us to do with the little witch?" asked Nichol, grabbing Quatre roughly by the arm, and bringing him around in front of Heero Yuy. Heero eyed Quatre with the same disdain and thoughtfulness that he had Duo, then waved his hand.  
  
"You can have him. You wouldn't get much of a meal out of that anyway."  
  
"But you promised Duo!!" yelled Quatre as Heero turned his back on him, more enraged by the betrayal than his impending demise.  
  
"I lied," said Heero, without turning around. He took a step back, and then broke into a sprint, heading in the direction Duo had just gone.  
  
The hunt was on.  
  
***  
  
To Be Continued. 


	8. Heero; the seducer

The Slayer

Disclaimer: Don't own it, don't sue.

Author's Note: Exams continue. Man am I bored of being banned from the internet. How do I manage to post, you might ask yourselves? Ha. I cheat. Naturally.

The Slayer

By The 41st Magaunac

Duo had absolutely no idea where he was.

When he had started running, his only consideration was to simply put as much distance between himself and his pursuer as possible. Now, 6 alleyways and 3 dead ends later, he was lost.

The graffiti on the walls and stench of a hundred unwashed streets informed Duo that he had managed to find his way downtown. There was barely a car in the road without a smashed window, and the majority of the houses were boarded up. There were only two kinds of people who lived here; people who were broke, or people who had something to hide.

Duo was amazed that the darkened figure hadn't caught up with him yet. Sure, he had been running full tilt when he left, but by now he was seriously wearing. Breath came fiercely from his chest, and his throat ached non-stop. What was he supposed to do? He couldn't keep running forever.

Finally, he skidded out into a long narrow alley, and spun around to see the darkened figure silhouetted at the end of the passageway. He groaned inwardly. Now he would not only have to face a man 10 times stronger than he was, but he was also exhausted from all this running. He had unwittingly given himself the worst possible chance of success. Wufei was right, these vampires really were conniving, heartless bastards.

Heero Yuy eyed his prey with a vague interest, before beginning the long walk over to him. He knew that Duo had nowhere to run. The brick walls were sheer, without a ladder in sight.

"I must admit, that was quite interesting for a while," Heero stated, his face expressionless. "There were a couple of moments there when there was the chance that you could have lost me… not for long of course."

Duo's shoulders heaved as he sucked in oxygen, looking and feeling suitably broken and dishevelled. All that running, and for what? Just to have his blood sucked out and his soul devoured? 'A fate worse than death,' Quatre had called it. Maybe somehow a grim future was suitable for the likes of Duo.

"Why are you doing this?" he called desperately, backing away a step. //My God, I'm starting to sound like Quatre,// he thought bitterly to himself.

Heero shrugged, not stopping his approach. "Something to do for a few millennia," he stated. "There's not much entertainment for the immortal, you know."

//That voice sounds so familiar…// thought Duo, //Where have I heard it before? Maybe if I can just stall him…// "You don't have to live that way!" Duo attempted again, "I know people who can help you!"

Heero stopped as he arrived in front of Duo, pretending to mull the idea over. "I don't think so," he finally said. "I'd much rather suck out all your blood, you see. It's much more fun than therapy."

//This guy isn't like Mueller and Nichol…// thought Duo, gazing back at the stranger he didn't recognise. //This guy has a sense of humour… but aren't vampires meant to be soulless? This doesn't make sense.//

Using his last chance of escape, Duo spun on his heel, ready to make a run for the way he had entered the alley, despite the complaint of his chest and every one of his muscles. However, a firm hand gripped the base of his braid and he found himself tightly held in place, the intense pain to his scalp making his eyes water.

Heero turned Duo to face him, taking in his smooth pale skin and cobalt blue eyes with a mystified wonder that surprised even Duo. He raised one hand to stroke the chestnut bangs of the Slayer with a gentleness that made Duo shiver in wonder and silent delight.

//Is he seducing me?// Duo asked himself.

"Such a pretty face, seems a shame to spoil it…" Heero whispered breathily.

Duo could only stare in wide-eyed astonishment as the dark-eyed stranger lowered his mouth, and claimed his own in a kiss.

***

"He's so little, it hardly seems worth it," whined Mueller as he glared at Quatre, who was doing his best to look as unafraid as possible. Nichol strolled quickly over to Quatre, his large hand gripping the back of the blonde's neck and bringing him around so that Mueller could get a better look at him.

"You know, he could join the masses," said Mueller, looking particularly at Quatre's bright blue eyes and blonde hair. "He certainly looks the part."

"I don't know what Zechs would say about that," replied Nichol. "He wouldn't stand a chance in a fight, but you know that Zechs is always interested in people who can do different jobs. He's looking for strategists."

"I don't know why he bothers," said Mueller in a snide tone, "He always goes for Yuy, his little favourite. I tell you, if I had the strength I'd…"

"Don't talk about it," said Nichol in a hushed tone. "Yuy has many of his own followers. I reckon he's plotting Zechs' downfall you know. Everyone knows it was him that engineered the downfall of Lowe."

"Yuy isn't powerful enough to challenge his Excellency," growled Mueller. "Zechs keeps Yuy under close observation, right where he can keep an eye on him."

"Well, I don't think he'd keep him around at all if Zechs' little brat sister hadn't taken a fancy to him."

"I don't know why she bothers."

Quatre listened to all this conversation, making brief mental notes. So, their leader was a man called Zechs, and this Yuy guy was obviously going to make trouble for everyone. Of course, he had no idea whether he'd ever even be able to convey this knowledge to anyone, but he decided to remember it just in case.

"Anyway. Better take care of the runt before Miss Relena begins to wonder where we've got to. Do you want to do it, or shall I?" Mueller gripped Quatre tightly by the neck, heaving him forward. His hand was pressed so hard against Quatre's throat that he could hardly breathe.

"You can have him. I had a big lunch."

The vampires burst into manic laughter, and Quatre felt himself being flung towards the wall, the strong sharp hands wrenching his chin back so as to expose the flesh of his neck.

"Now just relax, and you won't feel a thing…" the mocking voice whispered into his ear as oblivion prepared to open its gates.

***

The stench of the vampires told Trowa he was getting closer. He had lost all sense of reason and bounded down the alley in a blind rage, his eyes flashing dangerously, a snarl on his lips.

//How dare they? How DARE they touch him!? They have no right to even be near Quatre! I'll take them APART!!//

He barely even noticed as he dropped on to all fours, rich auburn fur beginning to tear his clothes and cover his body. His hands became paws, falling heavily on the ground as they tore away from his shoes. His human teeth were replaced with a set of ice white fangs, maliciously sharp.

Conscious thought left him. He was no longer what one could call human, he was totally transformed. He barely even knew what he was doing as he sprung around the next corner and found his beloved about to be defiled by such vile creatures as he could not comprehend. His eyes alighted on them and that was that.

With a roar of rage he flung himself on to Mueller's back before the vampire could even retaliate. He clawed and bit and slashed at any flesh foolish enough to get in his way, blood pouring into his vision like a scarlet waterfall. He grabbed its neck between his teeth and bit down hard, the jugular splitting and covering his teeth in dark red blood, the bone cracking sharply under his fangs. The thing stopped struggling and fell limp, and he backed off it, turning to face the second creature that dared come near something which was his.

Nichol held out a hand towards him as though he were a puppy in a petting zoo. "I have no quarrel with you…" he murmured, backing quickly away. A vampire taking on a werewolf was like a human taking on a velociraptor. They were faster and more deadly than almost any vampire. Then of course, there was his Excellency…

Trowa heard none of these words, a dull rush of energy like a passing train being the only sound he could hear in his sensitive ears. With a snarl, he was on the second man, gouging and ripping with his long sharp claws, until there was nothing but a flurry of tearing flesh in front of his eyes, as though the man had been put through a blender. He gnawed into his chest, stilling that cold heart with a sickening crunch as ribs were broken. He licked the blood from his lips, enjoying its sweet, metallic taste.

Sensing the presence of another one, he spun around to see a third blond figure. He was sitting on the ground, his hands outstretched to him, not afraid but calming. Although he couldn't understand the words the figure was saying, he felt relaxed by them. The anger inside him was slowly dissipating, leaving room for faint emotions and thoughts to once again enter his mind.

"It's okay…" Quatre murmured to the growling, bloodstained beast before him. "I'm not one of them… I'm not afraid… you saved me… can you understand me?"

//Quatre…//

Trowa eased himself backwards, feeling the presence of the wolf beginning to flee his body. He curled up in a tight ball as the fur fled his body, leaving him naked and shivering in the middle of the damp alley, blood still coating his hands.

//It's him…// thought Quatre, //That guy! He saved my life…// He slowly approached the quivering young man. "Are you all right?" he asked.

Trowa backed away from him, holding out his scarlet hands to try and make Quatre back away. "Don't come any closer!" he warned. "Please… I don't know how to control it. I don't want to hurt you, please leave me…"

"I won't leave you like this!" retorted Quatre, almost angry at the young man's lack of care for his well-being. "You need help!"

Quatre pulled off his coat and wrapped it around Trowa's shoulder's tightly to try and keep out the penetrating evening chill. "Just take a few deep breaths and relax. Everything will be fine."

"I'm serious! You should leave, get away from me!"

Quatre shook his head. "I'm not leaving, so you may as well get used to it. I don't care how unimportant you think you are, I'm going to take care of you. Man, I don't even know what I should call you."

"I have a name now," commented the green-eyed youth. "You can call me Trowa Barton, if you like…"

Quatre smiled. "Very well, Trowa Barton. We have to get you to a hospital…"

//No!// "No!" Trowa replied quickly, "That is… it's nothing. I don't need to see a doctor."

"Are you crazy?" //What kind of person is he?// "You're covered in blood, you're exhausted, look at you!"

"I don't want you to go…" Trowa buried his face in Quatre's shirt, inhaling deeply the sweet scent of him through the thin cotton. Quatre couldn't help but smile as Trowa lightly nuzzled his torso. 

"I thought you wanted me to leave you?" he asked, stroking Trowa's hair.

There was a moment of silence before Trowa eventually repeated, "I don't want you to go."

Quatre wrapped an arm tightly around the figure, "Fickle," he said softly.

"Why didn't you run away?" murmured Trowa. "I could have killed you… I could have…" To Quatre's surprise, he felt a couple of warm tears against his stomach through his shirt, and he lifted Trowa's chin with one hand. Trowa avoided eye contact with him, and wrapped both his arms around the little blonde's waist.

"I don't know… I feel safe when you're around… I can sense you, I could tell you meant me no harm… you saved my life. I felt protected. I don't suppose it's that easy for you to understand…"

//I understand better than you could imagine.// "I want you see you again," said Trowa out of the blue.

"You always seem to find me…"

"I mean properly. I want to talk to you."

"When?"

"Tomorrow night."

"Where?"

"Meet me at 'The Epyon'. Don't ask questions, I just want… to see you…"

Trowa finally let his gaze settle on Quatre, who looked at him in bewilderment. Their lips were only an inch apart, and Trowa felt his entire body quiver with desire as Quatre's soft breath flowed over his face. Before the blonde could object, he raised his hand gently to his chin and brushed a feathery kiss over his lips.

Quatre couldn't believe what was happening to him. He barely knew this guy, yet he was sharing a romantic moment with him on the cold cobbles of a dank alleyway. His cheeks felt warm from a tingeing blush, but he allowed himself for that instant to succumb to the numbing feeling of completion that flowed through his body.

Then it was all gone.

"Quatre! Quatre, are you okay?"

Trowa was on his feet in a second, knocking Quatre sprawling in his haste to get away. He gave a final lovelorn glance to Quatre before taking off down the alleyway, Quatre's coat still wrapped tightly around his body.

He was well gone by the time Quatre finally managed to get his wits together and call after him. "Trowa! Trowa, wait!"

Quatre looked for the perpetrator of the yell which had scared Trowa away, and saw Wufei quickly approaching from behind him, a tall man with light brown hair closely following him.

"Quatre, are you all right? That guy from before came into the library looking for you, then went flying after you. I was afraid you were dead."

"What happened here?" asked Treize, looking around at the two mangled corpses on the alleyway floor. "What did this?"

"He saved my life!" was all Quatre could manage.

"You didn't need to follow me!" Wufei growled at the policeman, who was now inspecting the damage done to Mueller and Nichol. "You shouldn't have followed me out here!"

"But these men have been murdered!"

Wufei spat his distaste out on the ground. "They weren't even people. They deserved this death. In fact, it was too good for them. I don't suppose they would have been nearly so merciful to someone they killed."

"Was it him? That creature, did he do this?" Treize turned on Quatre angrily.

"He's not a 'creature'!" retorted Quatre. "His name is Trowa Bar…"

"Don't!"

"-ton…"

Wufei shook his head in despair. "You shouldn't have told him anything!" he yelled. "This guy works for the police. This is Treize Khushrenada, and I spare no hesitation in telling him that had I known he was out after werewolves, I would never have told him anything about them."

Quatre clapped his hand over his mouth.

"Trowa Barton? Don't worry Mr. Chang, I won't hurt your little occult friends," replied Treize coldly. "But this is still a murder investigation. Don't think this ends here." Treize turned on his heel, scooping up Trowa's abandoned torn coat as he did so, about to leave. His departure was interrupted when Quatre leapt to his feet.

"Oh my God, DUO!" he yelled. How on Earth could he have forgotten something like this? He was so selfish! So stupid! "A vampire went after him! We have to find him!"

"You should have said sooner, Winner!" yelled Wufei. "Which way did they go?"

"They headed downtown."

"Then we shall follow."

***

Duo didn't even notice that he had closed his eyes until the kiss ended. It was the most incredible, mind-blowing sensation he had ever experienced, and his head was spinning. He blinked his eyes open, allowing them to focus on the dark blue ones before him. His lips, and indeed his entire body, were trembling.

"You liked that, didn't you?" said Heero with a smirk.

Duo couldn't deny that he had, but decided that he would damned if he'd admit that to a vampire. He tried to pull away, but the dark haired nightwalker had his fingers tangled in Duo's long locks, and was playing with them thoughtfully.

"It's too bad. You would have been fun to have around," murmured Heero, kissing Duo's forehead. "But you cannot have pleasure without pain, little one…" In an instant, Duo felt his body lose touch with the ground, and was flung heavily into the nearby alley wall.

His senses clicked back into place like the shuttles on a gambling machine, and suddenly he was filled with anger. How could he have let this guy control him?!

Just as Heero came up behind him, he flung out his elbow and caught Heero in the jaw. He wheeled around, throwing out a kick, which knocked his attacker a few feet backwards. Heero gently raised a hand and touched his bleeding lip. Ever so slowly, a little smile came to his lips.

"So, you are going to be a little entertaining after all?"

Duo dodged sideways as Heero made a grab for him, sending a hefty punch at Heero, but missing him entirely. Heero spun around, moving himself behind Duo, then locking his arms around him. Duo brought his elbow back, catching Heero in the gut. The taller man moved out of harm's way, bringing himself in front of Duo, paralysing him.

"Well, it's been fun," he growled. He brought his arm back and delved it into the centre of Duo's chest, clawing his way towards Duo's heart with his nails. Duo screamed in pain as he felt the pressure begin to break his soft flesh.

Heero smirked as he watched the Slayer writhe in pain. Then the smirk on his lips faded, and an expression of complete confusion replaced it.

Burning. That was all he could feel, an incredible burning pulsing all the way down his fingers, through his hand, and down his arm. He roared in pain and anger, and quickly brought his hand back, releasing Duo into a heap on the floor.

Heero brought his hand in front of his face.

He glared down at the burning and blistered shape of a crucifix which was now scarred into his flesh.

He gripped his wrist with the other hand, staring in incredulity at the permanent mark left on his hand. The pain was the most intense he had ever felt, like tiny knives pulsating through him.

Duo looked down at his chest in bewilderment. The fabric of his coat and shirt had been torn away, but sure enough, right over his heart hung the wooden cross that had once been his father's. Instead of getting a handful of Duo's flesh, he had got a handful of sweet Holy justice.

Heero glared at his hand, then back at Duo, rage causing his eyes to look like wild blue infernos. "Omae o korosu!" he roared, flinging himself at Duo.

Duo rolled out of the way, pulling himself to his feet, his hand wrapped around the crucifix like a life ring.

"I'll have your soul!" growled Heero as he circled Duo, watchful of the cross he held. As he was about to strike again, a crossbow bolt soared past his head, and he spun around to face another three figures. One he recognised as the blonde from earlier.

"You're outnumbered, demon!" yelled Wufei, drawing his katana. Treize stood behind him, his gun raised. "Get back from whence you came!"

Heero roared his defiance, and backed away. "This isn't over, Slayer!" he growled. "I will be back, and I WILL have your soul!!" He turned on his heel, and fled up the alleyway, dropping down through a grate into the miles of sewer below him.

Duo dropped to his knees, breathless, yet still able to smile. "You took your time getting here, didn't you?" he asked with a laugh. No one else even smiled.

"Who was that guy?" asked Treize, frowning and tucking his revolver back in its holster.

"It was him. Odin's right-hand man," commented Quatre. "They referred to him as Lord Yuy."

"Could that have been the same Heero Yuy from school?" asked Duo. "But that's… I mean, vampires can't come out in the daylight, can they?"

"This is all very unsettling. It seems our vampire friends have evolved. I can no longer pretend that you are not involved," said Wufei sadly. "I must train you. I no longer have a choice, and neither do you. You will come to the library tomorrow evening, and we will begin."

Saying no more, Wufei turned away from the group of them. Quatre eyed Treize warily, and walked over to help Duo to his feet. "We should get you home…"

In the end, the only person remaining in the alleyway was Treize. He considered the incredible events that he had witnessed in the last few minutes.

The blonde. That was the key. He was the bait that Treize needed to finally catch that animal. However, it didn't seem as though the blonde was too keen to help him. 

He glanced down at the little black book and library card which he had found in Trowa's coat. He had somewhere to start. Maybe it was time for him to call on a little favour he was owed…

***

To Be Continued.


	9. Brother my Brother

The Slayer

Disclaimer: I don't make the pilots, I just make 'em evil and sexy.

Author's Note: Thank you to all my loyal reviewers! I love y'all!

The Slayer

By The 41st Magaunac

The following day, the group once again collected in the library to discuss what had happened the night before. Quatre and Duo exchanged stories over what had happened to them after they had separated.

Wufei had of course seen the blonde kissing the werewolf, however it had taken a good couple of hours to get the information out of Duo about his 'moment' with Heero. Speaking of whom, the vampire had actually been in school, much to the group's incredulity. His right hand was heavily bandaged, and he wore a permanent glare even when not looking at anything in particular.

Quatre thoughtfully chewed his lunchtime sandwich then said, "I didn't know there were any seducers left in the vampire kingdom. I thought they were just a myth."

"It just goes to show that you shouldn't believe everything you read, even in a library like this," replied Wufei. "It is true that Odin hated seducers. He insisted that they were eradicated from the masses. It's probably another one on a long list of reasons why Heero and Odin hated each other so much."

"We still don't know much though, do we?" commented Quatre slowly, "I mean, we know that this Zechs guy is now in charge of the masses, and that he has a sister called Relena who has taken a shine to Heero… but all in all, none of this information is especially useful to us at this time."

Wufei nodded his head, "I know that, but it's worth bearing in mind. What I want to know is; why is the underworld suddenly so active? We see no action for months, and then suddenly we're over run again. Something big must be going on, and it's up to us to find out what it is before it happens and stop it. What do you think, Duo?"

Duo was leaning on his hands and staring out of the window. It was impossible to tell if he had even heard a word of the last conversation. His mind was back in that alleyway, remembering and reassessing the kiss he had shared with Heero, over and over again.

Naturally, Duo's thoughts went something like; //Am I gay? I mean, I'm not going to go around lying to myself, but how am I supposed to tell from just one kiss? I know I enjoyed it… and I think maybe he enjoyed it too. But like Wufei said, he's a seducer, right? It's his job to do that to people… Shit, I'm confused…//

"Duo?"

"Hmm?"

Wufei shook his head despairingly, "Would you pay attention? There are more important things on the line than your love life. Now, listen up. Tonight, straight after school, I want you both to report to me in my office. We can clear the tables and use the library as a practise room for training Duo. If we work until really late, we ought to have the groundwork for his training laid down. Quatre, we'll need you to…"

Quatre shifted uneasily, "I… really can't tonight."

The Chinese librarian raised an eyebrow, and even Duo sat up, coming briefly out of his daydream.

"I'm… busy."

"What on Earth could you be doing which is more important than training the Slayer?" Wufei put his hands on his hips.

Quatre fumbled for the right words. Suddenly, things clicked into place and Wufei took a sharp intake of breath. "You're going to see him aren't you! That guy!"

The blonde nervously twiddled his thumbs. "I just… he wanted to talk to me."

"So, where are you going?"

//My God, what is he, Quatre's mother or something?// Duo thought to himself as he saw Quatre try again to concoct a sentence.

"Epyon…" Quatre mumbled inaudibly.

"Pardon?"

"The Epyon," the witch repeated, closing his eyes and awaiting the explosion.

"The EPYON?" Wufei expostulated, "You mean that dark bar downtown?" Quatre nodded and focussed his attention on taking another bite out of his sandwich. "You're not seriously going!? Quatre, I forbid you to see that guy and go to that place!"

"You can't forbid me to do anything," replied Quatre coldly. There was no way he was going to miss out on a chance to speak to the beautiful brunette again. Just looking into those sweet emerald eyes made him feel so… whole.

//Wow, I didn't know he had it in him,// thought Duo as he suppressed a smile at Wufei's obvious irritation. Wufei paced a few steps one way, then the other, and finally stopped in front of Quatre again.

"I'm going with you."

"WHAT?!" Quatre leapt to his feet.

"That's final. I'm going with you. Don't worry, I won't sit with you or get in your way, but if that guy tries to lay one hand on you, I'll make him wish he was never born."

"But, Wufei…!" Quatre flushed hotly, partly from his anger, and partly at the idea of Trowa laying his hands on him…

"But nothing. You'll agree to it, unless you want me calling your sister and telling her what you REALLY get up to when you're meant to be studying."

That was the end of that. Quatre sat back down in a huff and continued eating his sandwich, and Wufei sat down a moment later, roughly flicking through some more pages in his book. Duo shifted uncomfortably in the silence.

"Well, seeing as we're making a date of it," the American finally said, "I think I'll go too. I haven't had a chance to enjoy the nightlife in this city yet, and this might be my best chance." //And besides, he might just be there…//

When this was met with no retort, Duo smiled to himself and fell back into his daydreams again.

***

"Long time no see, Treize. What's kept you?"

Treize sat in the dark and cold room, wrinkling his nose slightly at the strange smells which invaded his nostrils. He sometimes forgot how different it was to live 'above surface'. "I've been busy," he replied to the voice. "So have you from what I've heard."

There was a light male laugh like a scythe slicing satin, "Aah, so you have been keeping up after all."

"How could I not? It's not hard when I'm having to inspect leftover corpses every morning before breakfast."

"Yes. Sorry about that."

"They've caught on."

"It was inevitable."

"So soon?"

The figure in the shadows shrugged. "Not a lot gets past the Chinese one. The little blonde one's a nuisance too. As for the Slayer…"

"Yuy screwed up."

"Yes."

There was a short but very uncomfortable pause.

"He's a liability," Treize finally said.

"He's the Perfect Soldier."

"But he failed."

The figure in the shadows got up from where he had been sitting, his boots lightly scrunching on the damp concrete. "What did you really come down here for, Treize?"

"I've come to ask a favour, brother."

"Oh?"

"There's a werewolf loose about the city," Treize continued. "I want it so I can finish my tests on it. We haven't had an opportunity like this since Bloom died."

"The son of Bloom? What a marvel."

"You think he's the son?"

"I heard he killed two of my sister's best men," said the icy voice. "Amazing considering he's only a half-blood. His father was incredibly strong."

"He killed our father."

"Oh really Treize, must everything be so sordid?" Treize felt the other man move behind him, "Are you really so vengeful as to go after his son all this time later?"

"Yes, Zechs. I am."

The tall blonde flipped his long blonde hair over his shoulder and nodded, "So what is it you really want from me?"

"I can't bring him in on my own. I need some of your men to help me."

"Do go on."

"I have a plan. I know it's weakness and I can exploit it. That little blonde nuisance you mentioned? He is the key to this plan. I'll lure it out of hiding, then sedate it."

"Honestly Treize," Zechs sighed, "Living up top must have made you soft."

"Believe me, a long lingering death at the hands of my scientist friends will be a lot more fitting to the son of Bloom than any quick death your men could provide."

Zechs smiled and then broke into a cold, humourless laugh. "Oh my brother, maybe you haven't changed so much after all… When does this come about?"

"Tomorrow night."

"So soon?"

"Do you want my plans to interfere with the Harvest?"

"Very well. What will you do until then?"

"I'm going to keep watching them. I think the pretty little Chinese and I have 'hit it off' so to speak." Treize couldn't help grinning.

"You did always like the ones with attitude problems."

"So, will you help me?"

Zechs smiled in the half-light coming from a shaft in the tunnel roof. "What are brothers for?"

***

Lord Heero Yuy was in a disgustingly bad mood. It had taken all his self-control not to strangle and drain 3 jocks that had intercepted him on the way out of the school building. As far as he was concerned, they were lucky to end up with just broken noses.

It wasn't just the pain in his right hand. Vampires were very quick healers, and he knew that it would only be a couple of days before he no longer even needed the bandage. It wasn't even the fact that he was going to have a mammoth sized scar imprinted on his hand in the shape of a Holy cross.

It was Him.

Heero prided himself on being the best seducer who had ever existed. He was detached, emotionless and incredibly powerful and sexy, something that even he could see, without the use of a mirror. 

Heero Yuy didn't need a mirror. Heero Yuy didn't have a reflection.

He was the Perfect Soldier, the perfect seducer. He always had been. He had believed in his abilities to bring down even the strongest of souls. How Odin and he had felt about each other was of no consequence. Odin respected him because he knew that he was good.

Heero had used his talents numerous times in the past with absolutely no side-effects, so why, after one encounter with the Slayer, was he left feeling like HE had been seduced, and not the other way around?

He just couldn't stop thinking about it. Those sweet warm lips, that long and marvellously soft hair which he had wrapped about his fingers… it was like torture just to think about it. He found that entire stretches of time would just disappear, and he would find that he hadn't done anything. Time just evaporated whenever he thought about Him.

Still, tonight he was going out. He'd head downtown, chill out and have a drink at a nice, sombre sounding bar he had heard about, where he would not have to look at or think about Duo.

//Shit,// he thought, //now I'm beginning to call him by his name. Not good.//

Heero pulled his long black leather coat over his shoulders. If he had had a reflection to admire, he would have done this now, but instead he straightened the leather of his boots and polished it with his sleeve until it glowed. Everything always had to be perfect.

***

Trowa Barton was not having nearly such an easy time as the vampire miles beneath him in the sewers. He was incredibly nervous.

For one, he was addressing his worries that Quatre might now even show up that evening. He had worried about it constantly from the moment he had woken up, while he followed Quatre to school, while he roved the town as he always did, and after he followed Quatre safely home. This was his daily routine. It was difficult to break, even though he was almost certain that Quatre knew he was following him.

Following this, Trowa's greatest problem was finding something to wear. Trowa had numerous coats, he had a tendency to pick up a new one every time there was an incident. He still had Quatre's, which he had laid out on the end of his bed, the sweet scent of it giving him the peaceful dreams he had had in years.

However, Trowa did have a few decent items of clothing, most of them being things leftover from after his father had disappeared. Trowa had never met his mother. His father had told him that she had died giving birth to him.

Trowa discovered that his father had been altogether even thinner than he was. The black jeans he now fashioned in front of his cracked mirror were too tight, and he wasn't sure if he liked the fact that it made his butt stand out and look tighter than usual. He also wore a long white shirt, the only nice shirt he had left in his wardrobe.

He stood back to look at his reflection and sighed. Of course, it was nothing to how wonderful he knew Quatre would look, but it would have to do for him. He pulled a long dark green coat over the top of it all, locked his door and set off into the evening light.

***

Quatre was not having such an easy time of it as Trowa would've believed.

His bed was piled high with a heap of clothes varying from bright purples to silvery white. Quatre was sitting on the end of his bed in just his black boxers, comparing shirts in front of his full-length mirror.

The green matched Trowa's eyes… but the black one did have its charm… the lilac shirt seemed far too innocent for a place such as The Epyon… the white one would pick up the colours from the lights… but the blue one picked out the flecks in his own eyes…

Quatre sighed irritably and swept all the shirts off the bed and on to the floor, lying back on it to look up at his bedroom ceiling.

//I can't believe I'm taking so much time over this,// he thought. //Trowa probably wouldn't mind if I turned up wearing a dustbin bag.// Quatre smiled to himself picturing the look on Trowa's face if he really DID turn up wearing a dustbin bag.

He rolled on to his side and spotted a shirt which he had somehow missed when sweeping the others off the bed. Quite unbelievable really, considering that he was a fabulous scarlet colour, like that of blood. He scooped it up and pulled it carefully over his shoulders, then went to stand and look at himself in the mirror.

It was quite a transformation. The red colour seemed alien to his skin, and he wasn't sure whether he liked it or hated it. He almost pulled it off again, but instead decided to work with it and see what he could make for the rest of his outfit. After all, his dark blue hipsters, which he never wore, would go well with them… on the other hand, he never wore those trousers because his sister called them his 'pimping' trousers. One of his other sisters had sent them over from America.

Quatre pulled the trousers on then grinned at his reflection in the mirror. He wasn't sure exactly what he made of the figure who grinned back at him, but he knew he liked what he saw. A lot.

***

"Just forget it, Duo. It's hopeless."

Wufei sat on the chair in Duo's bedroom and sighed into his hands. They had finished the day's training over an hour ago, and now they were up in Duo's room, trying to get prepared for the evening's activities.

Duo, of course, had had no trouble picking out something for himself to wear. He stood in the middle of the room, going through some hangers he had randomly pulled out of his closet. He was dressed in a pair of painfully tight leather trousers and a dark purple shirt with one of the arms cut out, and a massive tear across the bottom revealing some of his strong stomach.

Wufei couldn't help watching him with fascination. He could immediately choose and eliminate clothes which he didn't think would fit Wufei, or weren't in the right style or colour. What remained were a few items that Duo had left on the end of the bed.

Wufei had systematically insulted all of them.

"I'm sure we're getting closer," said Duo, as though he were a professional stylist. "I thought we were going the right way with the red…"

"The red was vile, Duo, and there's no way I'm wearing it."

Duo rolled his eyes and delved into the depths of his wardrobe again. "Aah hah!" he said triumphantly, bringing out a long sleeved dark blue shirt. "What do you think?"

"Hmm…" whined Wufei uncertainly.

"C'mon! It's perfect!" enthused Duo as he presented it to Wufei. "You can wear the dark silver trousers with them with the flares, and you're all set!"

"Flares?!"

"Come ON Wufei, where's your sense of adventure?"

"I left it in my other coat."

A little time and a lot of complaints later, the pair were standing in front of Duo's mirror. Duo had adjusted Wufei's tight ponytail so a few strands fell over his forehead, which Wufei hated, but Duo thought was extremely cute.

Duo had taken his hair out of its three-foot customary braid, and now it covered his shoulders like a waterfall, running right down to his hips. He ran a brush through it a few times, and Wufei was amazed that it wasn't more tangled.

Duo finally draped an arm over Wufei's shoulder and grinned at their two reflections whilst Wufei scowled half-heartedly.

"We are two damn sexy mother-fuckers," said Duo in a deep and sexy voice. "Time to hit the town."

***

To Be Continued.


	10. Trowa's Confession

The Slayer

Disclaimer: Don't own it. Don't sue.

Author's thanks: To all my loyal reviewers, sexy Hexy, and my muses.

The Slayer

By The 41st Magaunac

Every low life in the city knew where The Epyon was. It was the kind of bar that was talked about as if it were mythical, as it was never mentioned during daylight hours. However, it seemed that the moment the sun went down, all the people could do was talk about it.

Trowa frequented the bar often, not because he was a big drinker, or because he wanted to meet people or grind up against them to the bass heavy beats that The Epyon always played. The bar was literally a block from his apartment, and he found that trying to get to sleep before The Epyon closed in the early hours of the morning was a mistake. He left people alone, they left him alone. It was a simple yet effectual agreement.

Trowa didn't enjoy dancing. He was pretty sure it had something to do with the proximity of all that tender flesh to his jaws. He liked to sit on one of the little table in the corner and drink a couple of shots before walking home alone in the morning while everyone else left in pairs.

But not tonight. He was meeting someone.

The Epyon bar was two-tiered, and Trowa walked up the steel staircase to find a table near the crossbeam. From here he could survey the entire room. He would know when Quatre came in, and would be able to help him if he got into any trouble.

Anyone who went too close to Quatre would have him to deal with.

***

Treize slammed the door to his card, listening for the bleep as the car alarm flicked on. This was a rough area, and though he wasn't afraid of anyone he could come across in an alleyway, he also didn't especially want his car stolen.

He had only ever been to The Epyon twice before, and both of those times were for raids on weapons and drugs. He had greatly enjoyed locking up some of the shit he found in there. Those kinds of people deserved to be flung into a freezing cell where they could hallucinate without bothering other people.

However, tonight he wasn't exactly there on official business. Night crawlers visited this bar, a lot of them Zechs' own men. He would have a few words with them about his little proposition to catch the werewolf, then maybe he'd kick back for the evening.

He adjusted his tight black tank top so he looked completely un-ruffled, and strolled over to the doorway, a pair of blue-lensed sunglasses covering his eyes. The bouncer glanced him over, nodded, and then let him in through the door into the smoky abyss beyond.

***

"Isn't this GREAT?" Duo enthused as he clambered out the side of Quatre's sister's car. "This is gonna be so much fun!"

Quatre looked worried, and Wufei was just looking dubious. "This is the place? My God Quatre, what kind of guy do you meet who comes to a place like this?"

Though the entrance was lit with ethereal green lighting and the entire place had an atmosphere of foreboding, this was not what was worrying Quatre. He smoothed the creases in his blood red silk shirt. He was beginning to feel that perhaps wearing these jeans had not been such a good idea. They had more 'cunningly positioned' holes in them than he had ever seen. There were massive slits across the thighs and even (he noticed with a blush) almost exposing his butt. Creamy white skin peeped tentatively out of the gaps, smooth and tempting. They were like a second skin, hung low over his hips and tight all the way down to the ankles where they flared slightly, overlapping the top of his black ankle boots.

"Hn… I don't know Duo," said Quatre uncertainly.

"Great, he's not sure, let's go home!" said Wufei, trying to usher them both back into the car. 

Quatre shook his head. "No Wufei. I have to see Trowa. It was your choice to come with me. You can go if you like."

"Over my dead body," grumbled Wufei as he locked up the car. He raised an eyebrow as he turned to see Duo already moving the heavy beat outside the club. He had unfurled his hair from its usual braid, and now it hung alluringly about his shoulders, acting like a rippling stream every time he moved.

"Come on, let's go in!" he finally said, after finishing his little dance and heading towards the bouncer. Quatre was quite amazed the guy let them all in with only a glance. He knew he certainly wouldn't have let himself in…

The dance floor of The Epyon was packed. There was a throng of people near the bar, behind which a burly blonde man was serving copious amounts of drink. Lights hidden up in the rafters flared brightly before going out, then lit up again, showering the dancers in a strange blend of colours, which only served to make the place seem more mysterious.

Duo had already been moving to the beat before he got through the door. He hadn't had a chance to dance to music like this for weeks now, and he was suffering from some serious withdrawal symptoms. "I'm gonna go and groove awhile, okay? Hope you get lucky, Quat!" he yelled, before disappearing into the depths of the crowd.

Quatre watched his bobbing chestnut head for as long as he could before he lost sight of it. In a panic, he whirled around, grateful to find that Wufei was still beside him. There was no sign of Trowa.

"I can't see him," said Quatre sadly, "What if he's not here?"

Wufei was not paying attention. He had just caught sight of a familiar golden brown head near the bar, a slight snarl appearing on his lips. The gall of that man to still be following them around!

"If you get into any trouble, I'll be right around here," growled Wufei, before strolling purposefully off towards his target.

Bewildered by Wufei's departure and suddenly alone, Quatre wasn't quite sure what to do. He tried to imitate some of the dancer's moves so he wouldn't look totally out of place, but didn't seem to be doing very well. It was suffocatingly hot, and he couldn't seem to find his way to the edge of the crowd. What's more, a dodgy looking man was grinning at him, and he couldn't seem to get far enough away from him.

It was only when he felt a hand reach to touch his butt that Quatre started and nearly fell over, whirling around to try and find his attacker. Unable to find anyone, he backed away, walking into an irritable man with strange coloured hair, who yelled something incredibly impolite at him, which Quatre was thankful he couldn't hear over the music. He turned again, to find that weird grinning man right behind him, and backed into something stable behind him. The grinning man stopped his grinning and backed away, disappearing into the crowd as though he had never been.

A pair of hands touched Quatre's shoulders, and he heaved a sigh of relief as he turned to find that the person behind him was Trowa, though not the Trowa he remembered, naked and shivering in an alleyway. This one was sexy and sultry, his slightly tight white shirt revealing his well-formed muscles beautifully.

Trowa had seen the blonde from the moment he entered, but had delayed going to see him until both Wufei and Duo were gone. However, he did not like the looks on the faces of the people leering at Quatre one bit, and had barged his way through the crowd. He only had to narrow his eyes slightly at Quatre's pursuer before the man had fled.

"Trowa! It's good to see you!" Quatre tried to yell against the music. Trowa, being the softly spoken type anyway, quickly took Quatre's hand and led him up the metal stairway to his little table in one of the more quiet corners. Quatre peered down on to the lower floor, thankful that he could still see Duo and Wufei among the people below.

He glanced back at Trowa, who was leaning forward on his elbows, watching him as though enchanted with some ethereal vision. 

In many ways, he was.

***

Heero downed his shot and put the glass back on the counter. Alecks, the barkeeper, gave him a wry smile. "So, what brings you to a low-down drinking establishment like The Epyon, Lord Yuy?" he asked, picking up the glass to clean it.

"Nothing special," Heero replied, not exactly interested in small talk.

"Bad day?"

"You heard about that?"

Alecks pointed to the fresh looking bandage on Heero's hand. "Nice bracelet, Yuy. I think it kind of gave it away though."

Heero glared at the bandage, as though willing the wound to heal. "Just a little incident with the Slayer. A little setback. Nothing I can't handle." Heero turned to look out into the heaving crowd, no longer interested in the conversation.

"I heard Zechs wasn't too happy. His little sister lost a couple of men out there."

"Really?" Heero tried to look uninterested, but had to admit, he hadn't been informed about this part. "The witch?"

"No, werewolf," replied Alecks, pouring another few patrons a drink.

"Werewolf attacks a vampire? Why?" Heero asked, mostly to himself. It didn't seem to make sense. Werewolves and vampires had always generally tried to get along together. After all, humans hated both of them. Something was afoot. Then his eyes alighted on something in the crowd which made his blood run chill.

"Something catch your eye?" asked the barman breezily.

//Or someone,// Heero thought to himself, not answering Alecks' question. How could he be there? He was supposed to be taking this evening to relax and not think about Du… I mean, Him. He was just a thing. He had no identity…

Duo grooved his slinky body over to the bar, and leant over it to talk to the barman, smiling flirtatiously. "Screwdriver please!" he said with a grin.

Heero found his seducer nature was once again getting the better of him. "I'll buy," he said, not giving Duo a chance to refuse. "Make mine a bloody mary."

Duo looked up, and recognised Heero immediately. He started and backed away, but Heero shot out a hand and gripped his wrist tightly, pulling him close so he could whisper breathily in his ear. "I don't think we want any trouble here, do we? Just smile and nod, Slayer."

Duo had had no idea that having someone whisper in his ear could be so mind-meltingly erotic. There was something about Heero's deep and sombre voice that turned his legs into jelly and numbed his mind of all conscious thought. //I can't… let myself be drawn in again…// he thought. //This guy could kill me at any time.//

He did his best to gather his wits about him and leaned slightly away from Heero's bewitching eyes. "Wanna dance?" he found his mouth saying.

Heero didn't know what to say. He wasn't much of a dancer, not to say that he couldn't, just that he didn't. It wasn't in his nature. In which case, the question must be asked, why was he finding himself being led on to the dance floor by his one true enemy? A funky beat started playing, and Duo began to curl his hips and twist his wrists…

***

"Treize!" Alecks the barman looked somewhat impressed with Treize's appearance in his bar, and cracked one of his rare smiles. "How's the force treating you?"

"Been busy," Treize replied as Alecks filled his glass. "You?"

"Same old, same old. So, why are you here? I thought you hung with the big boy surface guys now."

"Sometimes I need to come back to my roots. Reminds me of who I am. It's like coming home," said Treize thoughtfully.

"Right, so why are you really here?"

"I need a favour."

"I thought as much."

Treize leant further across the bar so he could talk to Alecks in hushed tones. "Zechs says I can have some men for a job I'm doing. I'm after a werewolf. I know that some of his guys hang out in this bar of yours."

"So why are you talking to me?"

"I need you to run this job. Get the men together, it's big. We have to chance to take down Bloom's little parting gift." Treize slid an envelope across the table. "I've put the whole plan in there. It's thorough, absolutely…" he smiled, "Werewolf proof."

"So where will you be while all this is going on?"

"I have some business to attend to… and here he comes right now."

Wufei strolled quickly across the dance floor and right up to Treize, sticking his chest out and drawing himself up to his full height, which was still a good few inches shorter than the Superintendent. "What the Hell are you doing here?" he asked bluntly.

"Enjoying a drink," said Treize breezily, "How about you?"

"Stop following us around, Treize. I don't need your help, and I won't let you get in the way of anything my friends intend to do. That werewolf is not your concern."

"Aah, yes, but the safety of the citizens of the city is my concern," replied Treize with an irritatingly smug smile.

"Then arrest the people in this bar and get back to catching real criminals." Wufei growled, "Stop following us."

With these words, Wufei marched off into the crowd. Treize turned to Alecks and smiled.

"I think I'm in there," he said, before pursuing the Chinese librarian into the crowd.

***

"So, what did you wanna talk to me about?" asked Quatre, now they were settled in their seats and he was convinced that Wufei wasn't about to come along and start berating Trowa for any reason.

Trowa, who had barely said a word up until this point, was suddenly at a complete loss. The fact was that he didn't really know what he wanted to talk to Quatre about. Nothing particular, that was for sure. He just felt comfortable sitting opposite him, drinking in his features, listening to the soft and soothing sounds of his voice. "Umm…"

"Yes?" asked Quatre, trying not to show his impatience. He had been absolutely dying to hear what it was Trowa wanted to tell him since the moment he asked to see him the night before. Now he was sitting there opposite him, and he wasn't speaking. This did not bode well.

"I just wanted to know… that is I just wanted to say…" //That I'm in love with you. You have no idea how I feel about you, about my obsession with everything about you. You don't know how much I long just to be able to touch your skin, hold you beside me, just to feel your breath on my skin…//

//There he goes again,// thought Quatre, //that same far away look in his eyes, as though he's in another world altogether.// "Maybe this wasn't such a good idea…" he said, making to leave the table.

//No!// Something brought Trowa tumbling back out of his fantasy world with a crash, and he put his hand firmly on Quatre's shoulder, keeping him in his seat. His cry had been both mental and audible, and he blushed hotly under Quatre's gaze.

Quatre sighed and seated himself again, not sure exactly what to do. Wufei had warned him that this guy would be strange, but Quatre was certain that underneath the cold mask he wore, there was someone incredibly warm and gentle. "Can I ask you something then?"

Trowa was a little taken aback by the question, but seeing as he didn't seem able to ask any questions himself, he let Quatre speak with a nod.

"How long have you been following me?"

The werewolf had been fearful of this question for quite some time. It had been well over two years now. He didn't go to school, his father had left home a further 8 years previously to that. After waiting all those 8 years for his father to return… he never had. He had found someone else to love.

"Just a couple of months," he lied. Quatre made to stand up again, but Trowa stood up and moved to Quatre's side of the table, gripping his arms. "Don't go! Why?" he asked desperately.

"Trowa," Quatre said sadly, "I can't talk to you if you're not going to be completely honest with me. You've got to tell me the truth."

"But I…"

"How long, Trowa?"

"… 2 years, 3 months, 21 days, 16 hours and 24 minutes." Yes, he remembered to that level of accuracy. Quatre had been the only influence on his life for the last 2 years. He could remember the first moment he laid eyes on him.

Quatre sat back down at the table, totally dumbfounded. He had expected a year at most… all that time? How could he not have noticed? He voiced these questions to Trowa.

"I hide all the time," replied Trowa. "I'm almost impossible to sense… I've been practising all this time, it's something I can do well."

"You never came to speak to me in all that time?"

"I didn't know what to say to you. I was filthy and living on the streets at the time. What would I have said to… someone like you?" //Someone so perfect as you.//

"You think I would have turned you away?"

"I would have turned myself away. I don't deserve to be this close to you, I'm still wondering when this is all going to end and I'll wake up alone."

"Stop that," said Quatre, taking Trowa's hand and making him shudder involuntarily. Was his contact to the brunette really having this kind of affect on him? "You shouldn't put me on a pedestal so high. You may not be able to reach me."

"You want me… to be able to reach you?" Trowa asked incredulously.

"You've been alone all this time?"

"No. I've had you. Something about you made getting up in the morning actually seem worthwhile. To see you smile… be angry… even cry. I wanted to share all those things with you."

"I don't want you to be alone anymore, Trowa."

"My mother… died when I was born… my father… he was on the run. From the police I think. I didn't know why. He never explained to me what I was. I didn't show any signs of being… what I am… until I was about 13 years old."

"And you went through it all alone?"

"I stopped caring."

"Then why did you start again?" asked Quatre.

"Because… because I met you…" a few tears slid down Trowa's cheeks as he let loose a little of his pent-up emotion. Quatre got up from his seat and walked to Trowa's side of the table, leaning down to press the green-eyed face into his silken shirt.

//I told him so much… I told him about my parents… why? I didn't have to…// Trowa thought, scared to touch the beautiful blonde in fear he would tarnish him. "Maybe I should go…" he finally mumbled.

"No," replied Quatre firmly. "I'm going with you. I don't want you to be alone tonight, Trowa."

***

To Be Continued.


	11. Treize's Game of Cat and Mouse

The Slayer

Author's Note: Yes, I know, I've taken ages to get this part out, I'm sorry it took so long. Believe me, when you see what you're in store for in the not-too-distance future you'll be thankful this part is quite short. Oh, and I changed the spelling of my name just slightly, do ya see? Onward!

The Slayer

By The 41st Maguanac

_~ Body to body_

_Funky to funky_

_We know how to rock your party ~_

//Am I totally crazy or just plain stupid? This guy could kill me at any moment and I'm dancing with the guy…//

Duo rolled his hips, arching his back slightly as he raised his arms above his head, allowing his torso to gently ripple in time to the music. His tight leather pants clung tightly to his hips, slicked with a little sweat as he allowed the beat to flow right from his fingertips to his toes.

_~ Mama said_

_Don't you play around town_

_But I just can't control myself_

_Picking up that boy tonight ain't gonna put him down til it feels alright ~_

//What's wrong with me?// Heero moved opposite the Slayer, keeping time with his movements, matching the sways of his hips like for like. //Why can't I bite him? It wouldn't even be a surprise, people drop dead in here all the time…//

He was close enough to smell Duo's sweet scent across the smoke choked air, his mouth bare inches from his shoulder… so why couldn't he just do it? Why?

_~ People stop and stare_

_Cus looking is fair_

_Come on over baby let me show you how I care_

_It's getting hot in here_

_My biorhythm's funkin_

_Got my circulation pumping ~_

//Don't break eye contact, don't break eye contact. That's what Wufei taught me and I damn well hope it works because otherwise I am vampire chow,// thought Duo as he twisted and darted to keep himself in front of Heero, to keep his indigo gaze locked with Heero's cobalt one.

_~ We are body to body_

_Funk to funky_

_We know how to rock your party_

_Body to body_

_Funky to funky_

_We know how, we're gonna rock your party ~_

Heero had broken into a cold sweat despite the volcanic heat of the room. He didn't know fear, he had never felt fear, but if he had, had might have likened what he was feeling now to it. He had never wanted something like this before… sure, he wanted power, he wanted to be feared, have people look up to him… but he had never wanted something like this. He didn't love, Vampires didn't love. They took the necessary steps to insure that their race survived, and that was it. They did not lust after humans.

//And the Slayer…// he thought, //why this human?//

_~ It's physical_

_Not just spiritual attraction_

_I hear you coming when I ring the dinner bell_

_Got my fazer set to stun_

_Now I'm gonna have some fun ~_

Heero might not have been a great dancer, but he had the style and flare to become one. He matched Duo's moves like for like, as though he were Duo's reflection in a mirror. The surface of his skin tingled wherever contact was made, sparks seeming to dance across the skin like static.

His eyes lingered on Duo's sweet lips, watching them, slightly pursed together in silent concentration, as Duo worked to keep Heero's gaze locked with his. They moved together, inseparable, like yin and yang across the dance floor.

_~ I've got my people up inside_

_Baby, wanna ride?_

_Party's fairly jumping but we're gonna have to slide   
I need a miracle   
Turn it up a little higher   
The roof is on fire ~_

***

Quatre left the club in something of a daze, his smaller hand clutched in Trowa's as the werewolf led him up the street. He cast a regretful glance back at the club as they turned the corner and it disappeared from view.

"You did your best," came Trowa's warm voice.

"I know. I just wanted to tell Wufei before I left, but I couldn't find him anywhere! And Duo was dancing and I didn't wanna disturb him, he looked pretty intense," replied Quatre, his brown still creasing in worry.

"I'm sure that librarian can take care of himself."

"It's me he likes to take care of," said Quatre with a smile. "Wufei's been watching out for me ever since I arrived at this school."

"I know."

Quatre glanced up at Trowa, who continued to look straight ahead, a little smile gracing his lips. "Of course, you would…" he said. "I still can't believe I never knew you were following me."

"I hide well," was Trowa's short reply. "I've had to. Werewolves scare people, and I can't say I blame them. If I wasn't already me, I think I'd be disgusted with myself."

Quatre stopped, bringing Trowa to a halt, who looked back at him, surprised. "You should never be disgusted with yourself, Trowa," he said severely. "You have nothing to be disgusted about. You're a good person."

"You're a better one."

"Stop saying that! How so?"

"Have you ever killed someone, Quatre?"

Quatre didn't reply, he didn't know what to say. Of course, he had aided the last Slayer, and theoretically he knew he had the ability to – locked up in the depths of one of his spell books somewhere – but no, he had never killed.

Trowa continued, "I have. I know what it's like to have the blood of someone else running over my hands, my face, down my arms, soaking into my clothes. It's scary Quatre, you… you have no idea. I wouldn't expect you to. It takes me with it, carries me, like I'm being swept along by the tide. 'It' comes to me, and if anything was to happen to you I…"

The blonde raised a hand, silencing Trowa's mouth with his fingertips. "Nothing's going to happen to me Trowa. Not with you protecting me. I'm not afraid of you. In the short time I've known you, you've taught me not to be afraid of myself – to feel pride in myself. You should too."

"And what are you?" asked Trowa softly.

"I'm a witch," replied Quatre. "Not a wizard, not a mage, not a necromancer or a sorcerer. I'm a witch, like my mother and her mother before her."

"But I thought…"

"No, it doesn't work that way. It never has, the world of magick does not abide by any rules. It's just always been far more likely for children to gain certain skills from a parent. A woman is more likely to inherit magick from her mother, and the same goes for a son from his father, but it doesn't always work that way. The books and words I use are witchcraft. Pure, dark witchcraft."

They had started walking again, and Trowa mulled this over for a couple of minutes as they walked. //So he's a witch… he seems so beautiful and kind, I would never have suspected// he thought. He delved into his pocket, taking out the little black book as they arrived at the entrance to his block of apartments.

"Here," he said, passing it to Quatre. "This is yours, I know. I have it out on my library card, but the librarian knows who I am… I'm sorry I kept it, I just wanted something."

Quatre took it from Trowa's hands, running his fingers across the smooth leather. "But, you can't read it… can you?"

"No," agreed Trowa, "But it… it smelt of you. I know that sounds strange, but I liked it."

"I heard werewolves have an incredible sense of smell," murmured Quatre as he flicked open a couple of pages.

"They do, you have no idea," replied Trowa. "It's more like a colour than the way you'd think of a smell. I could track a man for miles just by following the coloured trail of his scent he left behind."

"Do I have a colour?"

"Yes."

"What's it like?"

Trowa closed his eyes, the colours fogging his mind again as he tried to think of a way to describe it. "It's different depending on who you are… but to me, it's like a lavender, purple, sweet smelling. It's like being in a dream, hazy." He opened his eyes again and flushed under Quatre's gaze, "Like I said, it's kind of strange."

"I think it's beautiful," replied Quatre earnestly, pocketing his little black book. "Could you follow me for miles?"

"To the ends of the Earth."

***

"Would you stop following me?!!" Wufei turned and glared at the pursuing police officer, "I already told you, I don't want your help, so leave me alone!!"

"I'm not following you, it just so happens that our paths keep crossing," replied Treize, smirking, having followed Wufei all over the nightspot.

"Well, you don't fool me for a moment," spat the librarian, his sooty black eyes glinting dangerously, "I thought stalking was a crime in this city," he added snidely.

"Yes, but following suspicious characters is all in the job description for an officer of the law."

Wufei snarled, "Officer of the law my backside. I know what you're after, and it sure as Hell isn't a free library card. You disgust me. I had no idea law enforcement in this city was so corrupted."

"If you know what I want, why don't you just face up to the fact that you want it too, and stop running away from me?" asked Treize, peering at Wufei over the top of his shades.

Wufei's jaw dropped, "You… you… damn HENTAI!" he yelled, though almost no one heard him over the blaring music, "What makes you think I'd want you anywhere near me? I wouldn't touch you with a bargepole!"

"Well, it's not quite a bargepole, but I'm flattered that you'd think so," replied Treize, grinning at his own sharpness of wit.

"Pervert!" Wufei spat. "That's it, I'm getting the Hell out of here, before you infect me with anymore of your weirdness," he said, peering over the sea of heads, trying to find Quatre.

"You won't find him," said Treize, knowing who Wufei was looking for. "He left a while ago with a 'suspicious character' of his own."

"He LEFT?? Why that little…" Wufei growled from deep in his throat. //What if he gets himself into trouble? Stupid, idiotic little…// "That's it, I'm getting out of this Hellhole," said Wufei, "Get out of my way, or I'll have you peeing through a bag before you can say 'nutcracker'."

"Don't worry, I like the spirited ones," replied Treize. "Still, if you must leave, let me leave you with a parting gift," he said, grabbing Wufei and crushing him against his body, pressing a deep burning kiss against his lips.

Wufei fought him vigorously, though his mind felt clouded with warm passionate emotions. He longed to succumb, but he clung by his nails to reality, and finally managed to push Treize away, bringing his hand to his lips to try and still the tingling. "Stay away from me!!" he bellowed, flinging himself into the crowd and forcing his way through, leaving Treize behind him, smiling pleasantly.

"Game on."

***

To Be Continued.


	12. Howling at the Moon

The Slayer

Disclaimer: I don't own it, don't sue me.

Author's Note: Thanks to my usual charming people. Thanks to Hex-chan, a shout out to EO, a fellow 3x4 nut, and to my muses. Reviewers too, as always I'm thankful.

The Slayer

By The 41st Maguanac

"D-do you want to come up to my apartment?" Trowa asked tentatively.

"Of course," Quatre replied. "I'm not leaving tonight, Trowa. You could lock me out, but I'd still be here."

"It's kinda messy," Trowa added, though knowing that this would make no difference to Quatre whatsoever.

"I don't mind," the blonde said, his perpetual smile not wavering.

Trowa smiled back, and took Quatre's hand again, leading him up the long spiralling stairwell. Just the feeling of Quatre's skin against his own was amazing – other worldly. This was a part of his world he had never planned for Quatre to see. It was a secret he'd kept for all those years, ever since he had fled his parents' home all those years ago.

Quatre looked about him in astonishment. He had never imagined that Trowa would live in this kind of squalor. On their way up the stairs they had to tread carefully over one sleeping drunk, and another pair who were doing something he didn't even want to think about in the middle of the hall. A solitary light bulb dangled from the ceiling, only illuminating a tiny portion of the stairwell, casting long and ominous shadows all about. He squeezed Trowa's hand a little tighter, peering into the intense darkness, the corners coming alive with movement…

Cockroaches.

The blonde shuddered, lowering his face to look just at his shoes as Trowa led him on, looking back at the blonde's innocent face and feeling sorry that he had to see this.

After an eternity of climbing, they reached Trowa's door. It had once been painted blue, but now the paint had flaked so badly that it was hard to tell. The number, '2323' had been scrawled on a piece of paper in black felt-tip pen, but the damp in the building had made it blur. Quatre wondered to himself what kind of landlord would allow his tenants to have to live like this.

His question was soon answered.

"Oi, no name!!"

Trowa visibly tensed as a voice called out of a shady doorway. "Ms. Septum…" Trowa growled, before turning to her, trying to appear courteous.

"Ya lucky I didn't lock you out," rasped the woman, a cigarette lit in her hand, though to Quatre it sounded like she had already smoked an entire Cuban tobacco harvest. "Whaddaya mean comin' home at this hour?"

"I'm very sorry, Ms. Septum, I lost track of the time," said Trowa as politely as possible, though Quatre could sense that he was virtually bristling with anger.

The woman's eyes alighted on Quatre, who almost shrank behind the werewolf to get away from her intense glare. Her eyes were glazed over, a sign that she had definitely been smoking something, though he doubted it was legal.

"Whassat?" she asked, taking a drag on her cigarette.

"~He~ is Quatre," said Trowa through gritted teeth. He had wanted to avoid this kind of meeting at all costs; the woman never knew when to keep her mouth shut. Her husband was almost permanently drunk, with a voice that could shatter glass.

The busty woman looked from Trowa to Quatre, and then back again, a snarl on her lips. "Don't be late home again, no name," she spat, going back into her room with a mutter of, "Ya fucking lousy fag," which Trowa was almost certain Quatre must have heard.

Quatre watched her leave with a shake of his head. It had considered the meeting one of the strangest he'd ever had. He'd been brought up safely, protected by his parents and now his sister from people like that… He sighed. Life with Trowa was certainly eventful.

"I'm sorry, I…"

The blonde silenced his companion with a shake of his head, "It's all right, Trowa… why did she call you 'no name'?"

"Well, you already know that I didn't always have a name… I don't talk to people much, and when I filled in the form for this apartment, I left the name box empty, so I was always known afterwards as 'no name'."

Quatre scowled at the closed doorway where the woman had been, "She acts like it makes you less of a person. How did you think of your name?"

Trowa stared down at Quatre, his green orbs widening as a little wave of panic dove through him. //I can't tell him, he wouldn't understand… taking someone else's name.//

"Shall we go inside?" asked Trowa, turning back to his door.

Though Quatre was a little surprised at the sudden change of subject, he decided it was best to let it slide. He simply nodded to Trowa, who put his key into the lock, seeming to have some trouble with the rusted up metal, until the door finally swung open, and he ushered Quatre inside.

The lighting in Trowa's room was very dim. It didn't have the same reek as the corridor outside, as apparently Trowa did have some care for personal hygiene, though it was probably difficult with the amount of lime scale and mildew. The building itself was a health hazard, it was a miracle it hadn't been torn down.

Trowa didn't own many possessions, and it was this alone that kept the place from becoming cluttered. There were only about two and a half rooms that made the place up – a bedroom/living room type area which led right into the 'kitchen'. Quatre decided that theoretically it must have been the kitchen as it had a sink, an ancient looking stove which was probably a fire hazard, and a little grubby fridge. The bathroom was just as sparse, containing a shower and a toilet, and that being about it. Paint was peeling badly off the ceiling, and the ceiling was stained faintly where the damp had crept through.

"I'm sorry…" said Trowa, the first to speak. "Whenever I go away I always forget how bad this place is…"

"It's all right, I understand," replied Quatre as soothingly as possible, though the place was a million miles away from his sister and her obsession about keeping things neat. He smiled, "My sister would freak if she saw this place, but really, it's okay."

"It's a dump," Trowa replied sadly.

"Then why do you live here?"

Trowa shrugged, then sat down on the window-seat, running a hand through his messy bangs, "It's hard when you've barely been to school a day in your life, or had a proper job. There's simply no money in this city, and that's why so many people end up living in places like these. Because of Sunnyvale's reputation, housing prices are kept low, and places like these don't get demolished. For most of the people here, if these places didn't exist we'd be homeless."

"But you aren't like those other people," Quatre replied quickly, "Really Trowa, you're not like those drunk men, or those drugged up guys… I don't understand… you never went to school?"

"I was schooled until my father disappeared. He insisted on it. I learnt the very basics of things, I was like pretty much any normal school kid. Father never explained to me what was going to happen. I knew that he was always quite shifty… he liked his privacy. He'd disappear for hours at night, then come back in the early hours…" Trowa pulled his legs up on to the window-seat and wrapped his arms around them, "He'd come into my room and wake me up, then hug me and tell me everything would be okay. I never understood what he meant… I never understood until it happened to me."

Quatre had seated himself on the edge of Trowa's bed, listening carefully. "How do you pay the rent?" he asked tentatively.

"I do odd jobs. I've never stooped so low as to sell drugs, though I've been asked several times. I'm the perfect candidate for that kind of thing – nameless and silent as the grave. Quatre… I must have killed so many people… I tried to eat raw steak, kill cats, birds ~anything~ I could lay my hands on, but I could never… I could never…" Trowa faltered, a barely suppressed sob issuing from his throat as he held his hand to his mouth to smother it.

"Trowa…" Quatre got up off the bed and walked over to the window-seat, sitting himself down beside Trowa and wrapping his arms around his neck, burying Trowa's face in the soft material of his shirt.

"So many people…"

"It wasn't your fault, Trowa."

"I couldn't stop myself."

"Shhh," said Quatre soothingly, stroking Trowa's soft brown hair with one hand before tilting his head slightly to rest his cheek on top of Trowa's head, looking out through the crack in the curtains. He wondered to himself if Trowa had ever even opened them. "The moon's so beautiful."

Trowa moved his head slightly so he too could look out of the gap in the curtains. He lifted his hand to separate the curtains a little further. "It's waxing," he said eventually. "In a just a few days it'll be full moon… I'll kill again."

Quatre sighed deeply, wishing he could somehow dispel the misery that Trowa had managed to shut himself up in over the years, his own little bubble of melancholy. Choosing his next words carefully, he asked, "Do wolves really howl at the moon?"

Trowa shifted slightly at the change of subject, then asked, "Wolves, or werewolves?"

Quatre shrugged, "Either."

Wolves howl to communicate to each other… perhaps of danger. As for werewolves and the full moon... That's a myth. If they ever did do it, they don't these days. You try not to draw attention to yourself if at all possible, and if I started climbing cliffs and howling, I've a strong feeling people who know me would get suspicious."

"I've always thought it was romantic."

Trowa pulled his face up to look at Quatre, "Why?"

The blonde shrugged, "I don't know… the whole communication thing… like wolves trying to talk to each other, pass on messages… news."

"That's such a romanticised view. If wolves did pass on messages it would be where the nearest supply of deer was, what they'd killed recently, or who'd been shot by a hunter."

Quatre pulled a face, "Oh… Well, it always sounded beautiful when I hear it on documentaries. Sometimes," Quatre grinned, "I think I'd like to give it a try."

"Howling?"

Quatre nodded his head vigorously, while Trowa eyed him curiously. He was certainly quite the most unique person he'd ever met, so full of innocence and fanciful ideas. Trowa pulled back the curtains fully, opening the latch on the window and swinging it wide open.

"Go on then."

"Oh my God, I couldn't," said Quatre, blushing in the moonlight. "People would think I was strange."

"Quatre, I hear men coming home from bars and clubs in the morning, screaming profanities before dropping to their knees in the middle of the street, spouting such psalms as even priests couldn't remember, and all because of a couple of little white pills. No one is going to think you are strange for howling."

The blonde turned to look out into the deserted street once more before rallying his courage, "All right then… I'll do my best." he shifted position slightly, placing both hands on the sill of the window. He cast one last look at Trowa before opening his mouth and releasing a long and melodic howl which reverberated about the street for a few moments before dying away. Relatively pleased with himself, he turned to Trowa, who was watching him in fascination, a smile on his lips. "Well?"

"I'm sorry Quatre… but that sounds nothing like a ~real~ wolf cry."

Quatre pouted, sat down and folded his arms. Trowa smiled at the endearingly cute face, then continued, "It was… too sweet. Like something out of a 1950s horror movie."

"All right, well, you show me then," encouraged Quatre.

"I couldn't."

"But you can, can't you?"

"Of course."

"Well then," said Quatre, moving back to give Trowa better access to the window. "Show me."

Trowa sighed. //He's not gonna let this go, is he,// he thought. "Okay, okay fine. I'll show you," he said resignedly, kneeling up and leaning his palms on the windowsill. He glared up at the almost spherical moon, searching deep down in his stomach for that primal urge which sometimes overcame him. He closed his eyes, feeling it deep down in his gut, letting it work its way up, flaring out of his throat like a siren.

It was the most mournful thing Quatre had ever heard in his life. From the usually silent mouth of Trowa had erupted a sound eerie and lamenting, like a baby crying all alone, the last scream of a soldier on the battlefield, a dove crying…

Even when Trowa had stopped it seemed to echo on in his mind. The brunette lowered his chin, opening his eyes again as he felt the primal side of him flee like shadows at dawn. He turned to his blonde companion who watched him as if entranced.

"Quatre?"

"Thank you," the blonde replied, smiling faintly. A long silent pause followed between them. Two beings who didn't quite understand each other standing at either side of a ravine which threatened to swallow them both, neither confident to take the leap in fear that the other wouldn't follow.

Shyly and uncertainly, Quatre leant forward, cupping Trowa's face with his hands and drawing him down for a long-awaited kiss. His lips were warm and soft, his smell was almost oaky. He smelt ~real~ somehow. As though everything he had been surrounded by in his life so far had been fake. Put together just for his pleasure.

Trowa couldn't breathe. It was like energy was being drawn out of his chest, the barest brush of lips exhausting him beyond comprehension. He felt his body go almost icy cold before warming up again, a burst of adrenaline burning his arteries as though his heart had temporarily forgotten to beat. He broke the kiss, resting his forehead against Quatre's, breathing deeply. "But I… I'm…"

"I don't care what you are, Trowa," reassured Quatre. "Please kiss me."

"I don't know if I can," mumbled Trowa's reply. All this was just so overwhelming. He had never dreamed of being this close to Quatre, even after all this time. His brain couldn't cope with the influx of information.

"I want you to," replied Quatre, loosening Trowa shirt with his hands, straying to the top couple of buttons so he could wrap his arms around Trowa's warm neck, deepening the kiss with the slightest of nudges with his tongue.

Banishing conscious thought and cares, he wrapped his strong arms around the blonde, exploring the heat of his mouth.

Quatre wanted him and he wanted Quatre.

And for now, that was all that mattered.

***

To Be Continued.

Note: Yes, in case it isn't obvious, this chapter is the lead up to a lemon. That's just a little warning for anyone who wants to flee. For those who don't, hopefully it should be posted soonish! ^_^


	13. A Mysterious Gift

Disclaimer: I don't own it, don't sue.

Author's Note: Yes, yes, I know… I promise lemon. And yes, yes I know… there is no lemon here. 'Why?!' I hear you lemon fanatics cry. Well, in case it has escaped your notice, I have not updated this fic in ages. To be honest, I've been so busy with school and other things, I have had little time to write anything of any quality. I also shied away from writing a lemon for this story. Lemon writing, as many know, is hard work, and I simply ran out of original ideas. That's not saying I will never write a lemon again, but the 3x4 one I had intended for this fic simply won't be happening.

I apologise, and hope that the other merits of this story will mean that you will continue reading just the same.

Thanks.

The Slayer

By The 41st Maguanac

Duo hadn't even realised he was running until the heat of Heero and the club evaporated into cold, night air. His mind was a mesh of ideas planted there by one simple kiss from the dark Lord, like being on a hallucinogenic drug. The street outside the club seemed to span out for miles in both directions, and he stood there beneath a broken lamppost for a moment as he tried to find his bearings.

//Must… get out of here… go home… away…// he thought, though for the life of him he couldn't even remember what he was running from. His head felt like it was full of cotton wool.

Hopelessly confused, Duo set off at a sprint down the road. Somewhere behind him he could hear the pounding of feet, but wasn't even certain if it was the sound of someone following, or his own feet on the pavement beneath him.

A jutting out curbstone caught him off guard, bringing him off his feet and into a heap, hard down on the pavement. He rolled on to his back, fighting off some invisible attacker. A couple of people passing glanced briefly then walked on. This was not such an uncommon sight.

He scratched at his skin, his clothes and his hair rigorously, as though he was on fire… he had to purge this. Get Heero out of him, away from him for good. All he could think was that he couldn't continue life this way.

"What are you doing?"

The voice came from above his head, and Duo rolled on to all fours to get a look at the person behind him. He needn't have hurried. They stood there, totally still and silent for a moment, before repeating the question.

"What are you doing?"

Duo lunged for the figure, who backed away sharply to avoid his clawing hands. A blue hissing light appeared above his head as the person made something appear as if from thin air. A long wooden handle touched the ground near his head, a razor thin blade composed of nothing but blue…

"Take this."

Duo tried to compose a sentence, but found himself speaking in vague syllables, some of which he didn't even recognise. The lit sabre fell towards his head, and he watched it as it seemed to slice right through him and disappear once more as though it had never been.

"You will need it… now answer me, what are you doing?"

"I… I… uhh…" Duo moaned, his head lolling from side to side.

"What are you doing?"

At a nauseating pace, the world spun almost out of control, Duo's body tipped forward, the wetness of the pavement looking remarkably cool and inviting against the inferno in his head.

"DUO, what are you ~doing~?"

Duo threw up, vomit staining the stones in front of him. It was warm, it was wet, it tasted disgusting, but at least it was real. Hands gripped his shoulders and the world skimmed through crystal colours, one fading into another until the fuzz became solid, as did the pavement before him. Black eyes were staring at him in concern from beside him, one hand placed on his back.

"Wu… Wufei? S-someone spoke to me… I… I had a vision…"

"Duo, the drinks were spiked with something nasty. Some kind of drug, half the people in there are rolling on the floor, 3 people have died. Someone out there ~knew~ we were coming tonight. We've got a leak somewhere Duo…" Wufei's eyes narrowed, "And I'm willing to bet it's that fucking werewolf."

"B-but I… I saw…"

"Duo, you're lucky to be alive. I'm going to get you home. Don't worry, you'll be fine."

"Where's Quatre?"

Wufei gritted his teeth, "I don't know."

***

Heero stood in the middle of what had only a few minutes ago been a bustling dance floor. Duo had gone… there had been chaos… people having fits and throwing up… His vampiric metabolism had protected him from whatever had been in those drinks, but all the same he was confused.

It had been a long time since he'd last been confused. It had never been an issue – enemies were the people who threatened to kill you, everyone else was just a meal. It was that wretched Slayer, it had to be. Things had only started going crazy since he'd walked into his life.

"Quite an evening," said a cool voice from behind him. Heero didn't need to turn around to figure out who it was.

"What was all this about, Zechs? This isn't the way we work."

Zechs smiled, "You've been a thorn in my side, Yuy, and I want it to stop. We don't want anymore trouble like we had with Lowe, now do we?" Heero didn't move. "Everything could have come to a head this evening. You could have chased that Slayer down and killed it, and we could've been done with the witch and his little librarian friend. I am ~displeased~ Yuy. Now, unless you want me to demote you to the position of my sister's bed warmer, I suggest you get your act together. I want that Slayer, and I want him dead."

Heero spun around, though he already knew what he'd find. Nothing, as though Zechs had never even been there. He wanted to be stronger; he wanted to be able to wring his neck… Zechs was right about one thing though. All this was going to have to come to a head. Quite apparently, Zechs and Treize were not as close as he thought if Zechs was going against Treize's ideas.

He stepped to the doorway, looking out into the night. "Omae o korosu, Slayer," he growled. "I will destroy you."

***

The floor of the Sunnyvale library was intricately patterned. It had once been a proud carpet, one consisting of a lush number of contrasting colours from blood red to a dark forest green. Now it had almost been worn right down to the matting beneath, which Quatre was now picking at with the end of his shoe while Wufei paced back and worth, only making the wear and tear on the carpet even worth.

Quatre couldn't help getting the feeling like he was being interrogated. Every so often Wufei would pause in his pacing, and turn to look at him. Then he'd teeter on the brink of saying something, then go back to his pacing again.

"Wufei, I…" he began, but Wufei turned his back on him and walked over to the window, folding his arms, his slicked black hair shining in the early morning light.

"A werewolf…" he growled to himself. He turned around and kicked a heap of books over, sending the ancient volumes spilling across the floor. "A fucking werewolf, Quatre?!"

The blonde ran a hand through his rather awry blonde locks, "Please, Wufei, it isn't like that… not at all!"

Wufei sat back at the chair at his desk, kicking his feet up on the table. In all the time Quatre had known Wufei he had been nothing less than totally respectful to everything in the library. Something was definitely up.

"We are fighting a ~war~, Quatre. A totally supernatural war, but a war nonetheless, or hadn't you noticed?"

The blonde stirred nervously and shifted his weight to the other foot. It was when Wufei was at his calmest that one definitely had to beware. "I know, but if you'll just let me…"

"Do you even ~know~ where the Slayer is today? You know, the one that you're supposed to be keeping an eye on?" He didn't give Quatre a chance to interject. "He is at home as we speak, nursing his head and stomach, because while you were flirting around with the occult, the rest of us were ingesting possibly lethal herbs in our drinks. Something that, if you had been paying attention, ~you~ should have noticed!"

"Drugs?" asked the shocked younger man.

Wufei nodded and once again turned to the window. "Drugs, Quatre. Not just us, but everyone in the whole damn club… of course, it didn't affect the Vampires with their strong metabolism, but the death count by the end of the evening was a sound 5 people, and a further 8 in the hospital in serious condition."

Quatre sighed tiredly. After all, he had been up half the night. "Wufei, even if I could have found out that the drinks were spiked, it doesn't mean that there's anything that could have been done. Someone is obviously out to get us, Duo especially, and they were willing to kill any number of humans in the process. We're not dealing with your average Vampire!"

Wufei thumped his hand down on the desk, "Which is ~precisely~ the reason why your mind should be on the job and nothing else, Quatre!" He sat back tiredly, his hand resting on his forehead. "What you do in your own time… is not my business. I have known you your whole time at this school. Duo is a little more independent, he's had the training, he's got the know-how… but you. You are just… too innocent Quatre."

//You don't know the half of it// Quatre thought to himself, glancing down at the end of his shoe again. //If you had seen me last night…//

"Wufei, it isn't Quatre's fault."

The dark haired young man spun around and found himself almost nose to nose – or rather nose to neck, as Trowa was very tall – with the werewolf himself. Wufei didn't even ask himself how he had managed to get in. He did not have a particular disliking for Werewolves, certainly not as much as he disliked Vampires – particularly irritatingly smug ones on the police force – he just didn't like them appearing in his office unannounced.

"I might have known it would be you," Wufei growled as he backed off a couple of paces. "There was something distinctly odd about you the moment you walked into my office. I did a little bit of research 'Trowa Barton'. You certainly don't look 43 years old to me… and I should be asking how your wife and kids are, shouldn't I?"

Trowa looked quite markedly smaller as Wufei spoke. He looked helplessly to Quatre, who did not show any signs of remorse for the previous evening's activities, merely innocent confusion. "Wufei, what do you mean?"

"What I mean," replied Wufei, as if talking to a retard, "is that this is not Trowa Barton. In fact, I read in the news this morning that a man believed to be Trowa Barton was fished out of the river a couple of days ago. If you ask me, it seems rather a large coincidence that a man bearing no resemblance to this man turns up the following day with no proof of identification other than an expired library card. Expired. Just like it's real owner. Ironic, eh?"

//You have no idea// thought Trowa to himself.

"Trowa…?" said Quatre helplessly. This sudden intake of information was almost too much to bear.

"Yes, Quatre, what he says is true… I… I killed Trowa Barton. I told you about myself, about the anger that lies within, the rage… it was a full moon, he had been attacked, he was bleeding, I couldn't help myself…"

"… So you mangled his face and threw him in the river?" Trowa gave the librarian a powerful glare. Wufei finished, "Just checking I have all the facts straight in my head."

The blonde witch sat down on a little chair by the door. "This is so much…"

"Quatre," the werewolf said, "I am sorry for any confusion or anger I may have caused you, but just remember… what happened between us… that was real."

"Trowa," the boy replied. "When I… when we…" he swallowed, feeling Wufei's black-eyed gaze on him. "I accepted you got everything you were, I love you. I never loved your name or any trivial thing about you. Just you. You and your soul."

The auburn headed boy smiled softly, wishing once more to press the young blonde against his chest as he had the night previously. Wufei just let out a long, slow sigh. "Enough, I don't need to hear anymore." He turned to Trowa, "If I hear of you doing anything to hurt Quatre, I will inject you with so much silver that you will not even live long enough to feel the pain."

Trowa nodded, "I understand."

"We shall keep the matter of the card a secret, 'Trowa Barton'. That will be your name from now on, and welcome to it. Its original owner won't be needing it from now on. However, this is by no means over. Treize, that third rate cop, for some reason has it in for you, wolf boy. I suggest you avoid him at all costs… as indeed shall I."

Quatre tried to gauge Wufei from where he sat, trying to see through his iron mask of facial expressions. He had never seen him as hot under the collar about anyone, let alone some police man who he had only met a couple of times. Mentioning this, however, sounded like the fastest way to a crossbow bolt through the brain. "What about Duo?"

"Don't worry, I haven't forgotten about the Slayer," Wufei replied. "When he has recovered we shall continue to train him… his failure to deal with the situation last night is proof that his skills still have a long way to go, whatever he may think. Whatever those damn Vampires are thinking of, something is going to happen soon, and we are not yet prepared for it. We're going to get there though… because if we don't there's going to be the biggest shit-storm of all time."

***

"ZECHS!"

//Right on schedule.// "Aah, good afternoon brother. And what brings you to my end of the cesspit of this city this evening."

The long blonde haired Vampire did not turn around as his brother entered the room. Treize was still wearing his policeman's uniform, even though he was officially off duty. "You should know," the darker haired man replied. Zechs could tell without turning around that he was angry and tired. Two traits, he expected, that he would not have been experiencing if he lived life like a ~normal~ Vampire.

All the same, he turned around, putting on a bright smile and seated himself on the edge of an old stone sarcophagus. "Why brother… you look tired. Is something the matter?"

"Fuck…" Treize replied brashly, searching his clothing for a packet of cigarettes and lighting up. "Tired, hmm? You think I'm tired? Do you have any idea the kind of shit I've had to put up with today? Your fucking drugs, enquiries come out of my ears, interrogations of people who were there, not to mention having to tell 8 damn sobbing mothers why their precious little boys won't be coming home for dinner!!"

"Temper, temper," Zechs replied softly. "The patrons of The Epyon are hardly what you might call the cream of the city's inhabitants, you know."

"The Slayer isn't dead," Trieze replied, almost smugly. "The Slayer is still alive, and when he comes back he's going to be even stronger. Your little plan failed, oh brother of mine."

The police officer saw a flicker of rage cross Zechs' usually totally passive features, his crystal blue eyes twinkling with menace before dying out. "No. That was part of my plan which I did not foresee failing. I practically gift-wrapped that Slayer, and if I had seen to things myself, he would now be dead."

"But you let Yuy deal with it. The 'Perfect Soldier'."

Zechs narrowed his eyes, the bright blue pinpricks shining like beacons in the half-light of the room, "It appears that my Perfect Soldier… has become a spoilt little brat. He has a lesson to learn. I'm giving him one more chance to dispose of the Slayer… and then it'll all be over, and I'll be having more than just Slayer for breakfast."

Treize smiled and shook his head. "Sometimes I think you're losing it Zechs. 8 corpses. I should haul your ass downtown."

Zechs grinned broadly, letting his incisors gleam dangerously, "Do what you like, Treize… if you really think so little of your workforce that you'd let me get to them. You know as well as anyone I'm waiting for the right moment to bring my hoards to the surface… if you value your 'friends' at all, I suggest you don't give me a premature excuse."

The bronze haired young officer finished his cigarette and tossed the butt into the darkness, where it hissed quietly as it hit a puddle of water. "Watch it Zechs. I may be your brother, and I may be a Vampire, but I am also an officer of the law."

Zechs turned to leave the room, his long blonde hair cascading over his shoulder lightly as he turned at the entrance and said, "Yes, dear brother. But the time for the harvest is also upon us… you'd just better make sure you know exactly where your loyalties lie."

***

To Be Continued.


End file.
